Sol rushes furious from the lion's cave:
Then mayst thou know how hard to stem the tide
Of chaste desire, and love's o'erwhelming storm,
When by entranc'd affection first descry'd,
Beauty and truth, such as in Heaven reside,
Appear on earth in woman's lovely form.
Is there a charm in wisdom? Is there power
In blushing modesty's retiring air?
Looks patience lovely in affliction's hour?
Is not humility a priceless flower?