118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG

To my revenge, and to her desperate fears, Fly, thou made bubble of my sighs and tears! In the wild air, when thou hast roll'd about, And, like a blasting planet, found her out; Stoop, mount, pass by to take her eye—then glare Like to a dreadful comet in the air: Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sight For thy revenge to be most opposite, Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly, And break thyself in shivers on her eye!