Here you will find the Poem The Fourth Epigram. of poet Anne Killigrew
On GALLA. Now liquid Streams by the fierce Cold do grow As solid as the Rocks from whence they flow; Now Tibers Banks with Ice united meet, And it's firm Stream may well be term'd its Street; Now Vot'ries 'fore the Shrines like Statues show, And scarce the Men from Images we know; Now Winters Palsey seizes ev'ry Age, And none's so warm, but feels the Seasons Rage; Even the bright Lillies and triumphant Red Which o're Corinna's youthful cheeks are spred, Look pale and bleak, and shew a purple hew, And Violets staine, where Roses lately grew. Galla alone, with wonder we behold, Maintain her Spring, and still out-brave the Cold; Her constant white does not to Frost give place, Nor fresh Vermillion fade upon her face: Sure Divine beauty in this Dame does shine? Not Humane, one reply'd, yet not Divine.
