Transcends the blushing beauties of the rose,
The lip, like cherries dipt in balmy dew,
From whence a breath more sweet than violets flows.
Whilst I, a youthful bard, to fleeting fame,
And flattery’s menial arts alike unknown;
All common-place analogy disclaim,
Comparing you---unto yourself alone:
For who but folly’s sons would needless toil,
To place the sterling gem beneath the foil?