Cleopatra to the Asp

“ Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep ? ”

LIE thou where Life hath lain,
And let thy swifter pain
His rival prove ;
Till, like the fertile Nile,
Death buries, mile for mile,
This waste of Love.

Soft! Soft! A sweeter kiss
Than Antony’s is this !
O regal Shade,
Luxurious as sleep
Upon thy bosom deep
My heart is laid.