MAIA

If all the pleasures were distilled Of every flower, in every field, And all that HIBLA hives do yield Were into one broad mazor filled; If, thereto, added all the gums, And spice, that from PANCHAIA comes, The odour, that HYDASPES lends Or PHoeNIX proves, before she ends; If all the Air, my FLORA drew, Or spirit, that ZEPHYR ever blue; Were put therein; and and all the Due That ever rosy Morning knew; Yet, all diffused upon this bower, To make one sweet detaining hour, Were much too little for the grace, And honour, you vouchsafe the place. But, if you please to come again, We vow, we will not then, with vain, And empty pass-times entertain, Your so desired, though grieved pain. For, we will have the wanton fawns, That frisking skip, about the lawns, The Paniskes , and the Siluanes rude, Satires , and all that multitude, To dance their wilder rounds about, And cleave the air, with many a shout, As they would hunt poor Echo out Of yonder valley, who does flout Their rustic noise. To visit whom You shall behold whole bevies come Of gaudy Nymphs , who tender calls Well tuned (unto the many falls Of sweet, and several sliding rills, That stream from tops of those less hills) Found Like so many silver quills When ZEPHYR them with music fills. For these, FAVONIUS here shall blow New flowers, which you shall see to grow, Of which, each hand a partly shall take, And, for your heads, fresh garlands make. Wherewith, while they your temples round, And air of several birds shall found And Iö paean , that shall drown The acclamations, at your crown. All this, and more then I have gift of saying, MAY vows, so you will oft come here a Masing.