Hear, what late discourse of you,
Love and I have had; and true.
‘Mongst my Muses finding me,
Where he chanc’t your name to see
Set, and to this softer strain;
‘Sure,’ said he, ‘if I have brain,
This here sung can be no other,
By description, but my mother!
So hath Homer prais’d her hair;
So Anacreon drawn the air