Bathsheba's Song Poem by George Peele
Bathsheba's Song
Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air,
Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair.
Shine, sun; burn fire; breathe, air, and ease me;
Black shade, fair nurse, shroud me and please me;
Shadow, my sweet nurse, keep me from burning,
Make not my glad cause cause of mourning.
Let not my beauty's fire
Inflame unstaid desire,
Nor pierce any bright eye
That wand'reth lightly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 5:24:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
