The bright God of day, drew westward…

The bright God of day, drew westward away, And the evening was charming and clear; The swallow remains, nimbly sailing o'er the plains, And the shadows like grants appear.

In a gay summer bower, when the violet's in the flower, And zephyrs breathe odors, around, Lov'd Celia she sat playing on her spinnet, And she charm'd all the grove with the sound.

The gay God of love flew over the grove, By zephyrs conducted along, As she touch'd on the string, he beat time with his wing, And the echo repeated the song.

Rosy bowers, she sung, while the harmony rung, And the birds they all flutt'ring arrive; Th' industrious bees, from the flowers on the trees, Gently humm'd, with their sweets, to the hive.

Ye mortals beware how ye venture too near, Love doubly is armed to wound, Your fate you may shun, but you're surely undone. If you rashly approach near the sound.