Froth, howl, as in a fit of lunacy,
Nay, throw a poison on Endymion's lips,
Threaten to drown the world, the sun eclipse.
Keep the stars order still? or can they stir
And not digress? Know they how not to err?
Sure, no: I saw bright Paphos snuff her lamp,
Yet vowed to quench it with eternal damp,
Hurl all away, if that her servant's love
Be had in no regard, and awful Jove
1830Hurry along the milky way to find