By slow [Meander’s] margent green,
[And in the violet-embroidered vale]
Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: 235
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
That likest thy [Narcissus] are?
O, if thou have
Hid them in some flowery cave,
Tell me but where, 240