l still,
steal thine ats on mine ear.
the flower-enamour'd busy bee
the rosy ba loves to sip;
sweet the streamlet's limpid pse
to the sun-brown'd arab's lip.
but, delia, on thy balmy lips
let me, no vagrant i, rove;
o let me steal one liquid kiss,
for oh! my soul is parch'd with love.