Who in their motion did like straglers erre,
Cause they deriv'd no influence from her,
Who's constant as she's chaste. The Sinne hath beene
Clad like a neighb'ring shepheard often seene
To hunt those Dales, in hope then Daphnes, there
To see a brighter face. Th' Astrologer
In th' interim dyed, whose proud Art could not show
Whence that Ecclipse did on the sudden grow.
A wanton Satyre eager in the chase
Of some faire Nimph, beheld Castara's face,