Then, nor cheeks of rosy bloom,
Nor thy lips that breathe perfume,
Nor thine eyes’ expressive light,
Bless thy lover’s envious sight;
Nor that soothing smile, which cheers
All his tender hopes and fears:
For, as radiant Phœbus streams
O’er the globe with placid beams,
Whirling through the ethereal way
The fiery-axled car of day,