I will go seek Odora, and return
To talk with her amid this fragrant bower,
Of what a book has charmed my sighing soul.
I found it here. Perchance she read it first.
How that one thought which doth fill up the mind,
Will color outward objects, circumstance,
And accident, with tincture of itself.
He goes—then Odora and he re-enter the garden.
Lover speaks.—I here have found, Odora, love, this book,
Which tells a strange, sweet tale of happy love,