Whom, kneeling, I adore with litanies.
Oh radiant light, ray of the radiant sun,
Nay sun in very truth, to thee I pray,
That thou wouldst let me love,—this boon alone.
If jealous Heaven this boon to me deny,
Let me not die of grief though grief doth slay,
But grant, oh rays, that of a ray I die.
The shepherds did not think ill of the sonnet, nor were they displeased with Erastro's voice, which, though not one of the most exquisite, was yet a tuneful one; and straightway Elicio, moved by Erastro's example, bade him play his pipe, to the sound of which he repeated this sonnet:
ELICIO.
Alas! that to the lofty purpose, born