Cold Virtue guard me, or I shall endure <br />From the next glance a double calenture <br />Of fire and lust! Two flames, two Semeles, <br />Dwell in those eyes, whose looser glowing rays <br />Would thaw the frozen Russian into lust, <br />And parch tile negro's hotter blood to dust. <br />Dart not your bllls of wild-fire here; go throw <br />Those flakes upon the eunuch's colder snow, <br />Till he in active blood do boil as high <br />As he that made him so in jealousy. <br />When that loose queen of love did dress her eyes <br />In the most taking flame to the prize <br />At Ida; that faint glare to this desire <br />Burnt like a taper to the zone of fire: <br />And could she then the lustful youth have crowned <br />With thee his Helen, Troy had never found <br />Her fate in Sinon's fire; thy hotter eyes <br />Had made it burn a quicker sacrifice <br />To lust, whilst every glance in subtle wiles <br />Had shot itself like lightning through the piles. <br />Go blow upon some equal blood, and let <br />Earth's hotter ray engender and beget <br />New flames to dress the aged Paphians' quire, <br />And lend the world new Cupids borne on fire. <br />Dart no more here, those flatmes, nor strive to throw <br />Your fire on him who is immured in snow! <br />Those glances work on me like the weak shine <br />The frosty sun throws on the Appenine, <br />When the hill's active coldness doth go near <br />To freeze the glimmering taper to his sphere: <br />Each ray is lost on me, like the faint light <br />The glow-worm shoots at the cold breast of night. <br />Thus virtue can secure; but for that name <br />I had been now sin's martyr, and your flame.<br /><br />Francis Beaumont<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-glance-3/
