Love but One

See these two little brooks that slowly creep, In snaky writhings through the plains, I knew them once one river swift and deep, Blessing and blest by poets strains.

Then touch'd with awe, we thought some God did pour Those floods out of his sacred jarr; Transforming every weed into a flower, And every flower into a star.

But since it broke itself, and double glides, The naked banks no dress have worn; And you dry barren mountain now derides These vallies, which lost glories mourn.

Such, Chloris, is thy love: which, while it ran Confin'd within a single stream, Fir'd every tuneful son of mighty Pan: And thou wert mine, and all men's theme.

But, when imparted to one Lover more, It in two streams did faintly creep; The shepherd's common Muse grew low and poor, And mine as lean as these my sheep.

Alas! that honour, Chloris, thou hast lost, Which we to thy full flood did pay! While now that swain, that swears he loves thee most, Slakes but his thirst, and goes away!