Up to a hill, that stood the water nigh,
On which a stately church was builded high.
"This place is sacred to immortal Fame,
And evermore a nymph stood at the gate
And took the names ... ...
Then all about the church she hang'd the same
Before the sacred image, in such rate
As they might then well be assur'd for ever,
Spite of that wretch, in safety to persever.
"But as the swans that there still flying are,