A t ay like a flower upon mine ,

        And dre ots like bees

        For multitude and t of snesses;

        rejoig, I desired t

        Of tler, wo w

        Could lure t srees

        t I migs and please

        My soul so, al

        Of a weak mans vain wishes ! hile I spoke,

        t I called a flotle-rough

        ts, called bees, stuo festering:

        Oertain (cried Reason as she woke)

        Your best and gladdest ts but long enough,

        And to sting !
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