And yet such music worthiest were to blaze
The peerless height of her immortal praise,
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit
Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,
Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can show,
I will assay, her worth to celebrate,
And so attend ye toward her glittering state;
Where ye may all that are of noble stem
Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem.

2. SONG.

O'ER the smooth enamell'd green,
Where no print of step hath been,

Follow me as I sing,

And touch the warbled string,

Under the shady roof

Of branching elm star-proof.

Follow me,

I will bring you where she sits,

Clad in splendour as befits
Her deity.

Such a rural Queen

All Arcadia hath not seen.

3. SONG.

NYMPHS and shepherds dance no more By sandy Ladon's lilied banks,

On old Lycæus or Cyllene hoar

Trip no more in twilight ranks,

Though Erymanth your loss deplore,

A better soil shall give ye thanks.

From the stony Mænalus

Bring your flocks, and live with us,
Here ye shall have greater grace,

To serve the Lady of this place.

Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,

Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.

RC.