The poem
Forbear, bold youth; all 's heaven here, And what you do aver To others courtship may appear, 'Tis sacrilege to her. She is a public deity; And were 't not very odd She should dispose herself to be A petty household god?
First make the sun in private shine And bid the world adieu, That so he may his beams confine In compliment to you: But if of that you do despair, Think how you did amiss To strive to fix her beams which are More bright and large than his.