The wild nymph Teras, that still bears
An ivory lute, tells ominous tales,
And sings at solemn festivals.
Now was bright Hero weary of the day,
Thought an Olympiad in Leander's stay.
Sol and the soft-foot Hours hung on his arms,
And would not let him swim, foreseeing his harms:
That day Aurora double grace obtain'd
Of her love Phœbus; she his horses reign'd,
Set[92] on his golden knee, and, as she list,