On their steeds the ladies ride,
Two fair girls and slender;
Modest are their eyes and mild,
And their cheeks are tender.
Thus young lilies break the sheath,
Budding roses render
Blushes, and twinned pairs of stars
Climb the heavens with splendour.
Toward Love's Paradise they fare,
Such, I ween, their will is;
While the strife between the pair
Turns their cheeks to lilies;
Phyllis Flora flouts, and fair
Flora flouteth Phyllis;
Flora's hand a hawk doth bear,
And a goshawk Phyllis.
After a short space they came
Where a grove was growing;
At the entrance of the same
Rills with murmur flowing;
There the wind with myrrh and spice
Redolent was blowing,
Sounds of timbrel, harp, and lyre
Through the branches going.
All the music man could make
There they heard in plenty;
Timbrel, psaltery, lyre, and lute,
Harp and viol dainty;
Voices that in part-song meet
Choiring forte, lente;
Sounds the diatesseron,
Sounds the diapente.
All the tongues of all the birds
With full cry were singing;
There the blackbird's melody
Sweet and true was ringing;
Wood-dove, lark, and thrush on high
Jocund anthems flinging,
With the nightingale, who still
To her grief was clinging.
When the girls drew nigh the grove,
Some fear came upon them;
Further as they fared, the charm
Of the pleasance won them;
All the birds so sweetly sang
That a spell was on them,
And their bosoms warmed with love
At the welcome shown them.
Man would be immortal if
He could there be dwelling:
Every branch on every tree
With ripe fruit is swelling;
All the ways with nard and myrrh
And with spice are smelling:
How divine the Master is
All the house is telling.
Blithesome bands arrest their gaze,
Youths and maidens dancing;
Bodies beauteous as the stars,
Eyes with heaven's light glancing
And the bosoms of the girls,
At the sight entrancing,
Leap to view such marvels new,
Joy with joy enhancing!
They their horses check, and light,
Moved with sudden pleasure;
Half forget what brought them here,
Thralled by love and leisure;
Till once more the nightingale
Tuned her thrilling measure;
At that cry each girl again
Hugs her hidden treasure.
Round the middle of the grove
Was a place enchanted,
Which the god for his own rites
Specially had planted;
Fauns and nymphs and satyrs here
Flowery alleys haunted,
And before the face of Love
Played and leaped and chaunted.