Cowper, The Task, 1785
(5) How sweet I roamed from field to field,
And tasted all the summer’s pride;
Till I the Prince of Love beheld,
Who in the sunny beams did glide.
He showed me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow:
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,