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. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen.