Lo! from farre I you salute,
Sweetly warbling on my Lute.
Indie, Egypt, Arabie,
Asia, Greece, and Tartarie,
Carmel-tracts, and Lebanon
With the Mountains of the Moon,
from whence muddie Nile doth runne,
Or whereever else you won;
Breathing in one vitall aire,
One we are though distant farre.