Our Situation chang’d, you see
How pleasure fleets away;
But yesterday you envy’d me;
I envy you to day.
EPIGRAM on a LADY, stung by a BEE.
To heal the wound the Bee had made
upon my Delia’s face,
Its honey to the wound she laid,
and bid me kiss the place.
Pleas’d I obey’d, and from the wound