Which Nature built, but the exacter hands
Of Vertue polisht. Though sad Fate deny
My prophane feete accesse, my vowes shall flye.
May those Musitians, which divide the ayre
With their harmonious breath, their flight prepare,
For this glad place, and all their accents frame,
To teach the Eccho my Castara's name.
The beautious troopes of graces led by love
In chaste attempts, possesse the neighb'ring grove
Where may the Spring dwell still. May every tree