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 glareLike to a dreadful comet in the air:Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sightFor thy revenge to be most opposite,Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly,And break thyself in shivers on her eye!