"But oh! what waspe was't that could prove
Ravilliack to my Queen of Love?
The King of Bees now's jealous grown
Lest her beams should melt his throne…
Live-Hony all, the Envyous Elfe
Stung her, cause sweeter than himself.
Sweetness and she are so ally'd
The Bee committed parricide."
More verses by John Cleveland
- On The Memory Of Mr. Edward King, Drown'D In The Irish Seas
- Upon Phillis Walking In A Morning Before Sun-Rising
- The Rebel Scot
- An Elegy On Ben Jonson
- The Scots Apostasie