As Helen hath: in whose bright eyes all Loves and Graces be.
"O fair, O lovely Maid! a Matron is now made of thee!
But we will, every Spring, unto the leaves in meadow go
To gather garlands sweet; and there, not with a little woe,
Will often think of thee, O Helen! as the suckling lambs
Desire the strouting bags and presence of their tender dams.
We all betimes for thee, a wreath of melitoe will knit;
And on a shady plane for thee will safely fasten it.
And all betimes for thee, under a shady plane below,
Out of a silver box the sweetest ointment will bestow.