What is Paphos’ blushing flower,
Whilst Beauty doth my spirit thrall,
Whilst all my pulses feel thy power?
With Cyprian fire thine eye is sparkling,
Like the morning’s tender light;
Through thy silken lashes straying,
Shafts resistless wing their flight:
O! the time I first beheld thee,
Blushing in thy early teens,
Rose nor lily ne’er excelled thee,