Ashrea | ||
Here
no Sylvanus haunts our Grove,
Here no prophane wild Satyrs rove,
Nor in our glades,
And blissful shades,
Diana and her Nymphs resort
To chase the nimble Deer, and sport.
A fairer wight,
More pure and bright.
Than rosie morn, that sweetly breathes,
Appears, crown'd with immortal wreathes.
The Starrie skies,
With radiant Eyes,
Are not so beauteous, clear, and fair,
Nor, for the night and day, a pair,
That glorious shine;
Shee's so divine.
Here no prophane wild Satyrs rove,
Nor in our glades,
And blissful shades,
Diana and her Nymphs resort
To chase the nimble Deer, and sport.
A fairer wight,
More pure and bright.
Than rosie morn, that sweetly breathes,
Appears, crown'd with immortal wreathes.
The Starrie skies,
With radiant Eyes,
Are not so beauteous, clear, and fair,
Nor, for the night and day, a pair,
That glorious shine;
Shee's so divine.
Ashrea | ||