- Nature had long a Treasure made
- Of all her choisest store;
- Fearing, when She should be decay'd,
- To beg in vain for more.
- Her Orientest Colours there,
- And Essences most pure,
- With sweetest Perfumes hoarded were,
- All as she thought secure.
- She seldom them unlock'd, or us'd,
- But with the nicest care;
- For, with one grain of them diffus'd,
- She could the World repair.
- But likeness soon together drew
- What she did separate lay;
- Of which one perfect Beauty grew,
- And that was Celia.
- Love wisely had of long fore-seen
- That he must once grow old;
- And therefore stor'd a Magazine,
- To save him from the cold.
- He kept the several Cells repleat
- With Nitre thrice refin'd;
- The Naphta's and the Sulphurs heat,
- And all that burns the Mind.
- He fortifi'd the double Gate,
- And rarely thither came,
- For, with one Spark of these, he streight
- All Nature could inflame.
- Till, by vicinity so long,
- A nearer Way they sought;
- And, grown magnetically strong,
- Into each other wrought.
- Thus all his fewel did unite
- To make one fire high:
- None ever burn'd so hot, so bright:
- And Celia that am I.
- So we alone the happy rest,
- Whilst all the World is poor,
- And have within our Selves possest
- All Love's and Nature's store.
- --oOo-- -