SOL GLORIA MUNDI 



I have a garden of my own, 

 But so with roses overgrown, 

 And lilies, that you would it guess 

 To be a little wilderness; 

 And all the spring-time of the year 

 It only loved to be there. 

 Among the beds of lilies I 

 Have sought it oft, where it should lie, 

 Yet could not, till itself would rise, 

 Find it, although before mine eyes; 

 For, in the flaxen lilies' shade, 

 It like a bank of lilies laid. 

 Upon the roses it would feed, 

 Until its lips e'en seem to bleed 

 And then to me 'twould boldly trip, 

 And print there roses on my lip, 

 But all its chief delight was still 

 On roses thus itself to fill, 

 And its pure virgin limbs to fold 

 In whitest sheets of lilies cold ; 

 Had it lived long, it would have been 

 Lilies without, roses within. 



A. MARVELL. 



The Nymph Complaining for the Death of 

 her Fawn. 



[39] 



