Uncheckt, indulg'd, her growing passions rise:
Wonder, to see him safe, and hear his telling;
Ambition vain, to be more fair and wise;
And rage, at Cupid's misconceiv'd false dealing:
Various the gusts, but, all one way impelling,
She plung'd into the bosom of the tree,
And snatch'd the rose, no dreaded pain or quelling.
Off drops the snake, nor farther staid to see;
But rush'd into the flood, and vanish'd presently.