And, with all helpful service, will comply That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and Men is wound. And keep unsteady Nature to her law, II. 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, Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen. III. SONG. NYMPHS and Shepherds, dance no more By sandy Ladon's lillied banks; A better soil shall give ye thanks. Bring your flocks, and live with us; To serve the Lady of this place. Through Syrinx your Pan's mistress were Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. |