There shall you see the nymphs at play,
And how the satyrs spend the day;
The fishes gliding on the sands,
Offering their bellies to your hands.
The birds with heavenly tunèd throats
Possess woods' echoes with sweet notes,
Which to your senses will impart
A music to enflame the heart.
Upon the bare and leafless oak
The ring-doves' wooings will provoke