Both Senses thus did blest appear,
For Love's Record grand Wonder there.
Each warbled Sound by her compos'd,
So soon as born shew'd wrap'd, inclos'd,
Then, straightways dead, embalm'd within
Such Breath as though perfum'd had been.
Th' whole Song, compleat (as Fancy deem'd)
Delightful Soul of Musick seem'd.
If Thracian Harp could Rivers cause
(Greek Poets feign'd) make wanton pause,
Beasts, charmed Stones themselves and Trees,
Whilst danc'd their Antick Revelries,
Her Voyce H' had made more powerful prove,
Till Bruits howe're should fall in Love.
ORNANDE when did Song conclude,
This from the Grove Content renew'd:
As drawn by Emulation's Pride,
Th' ambitious Nightingale reply'd,
Would sing her part, so, chanted round
(Fine Nature's Skill) th' adjoyned Ground:
Which mark'd, I pray'd she would again,
With some short voluntary strain,
(As Fancy pleas'd) by turns, in jest
Still answer it; had my Request,
ORNANDE sung, then th' Nightingale,
Now She, then She, which should prevail:
'Twas earnest Combat grown from play,
Sharp Voice-contention for the Day,
(Such Lovers thoughts) till strain'd still higher
That Bird as 'twould e're long expir••.
When I did beg from joyned Seat,
ORNANDE first would make Retreat,
And end that Strife so caus'd by me
Though granted a false Victory;
Stop'd, silenc'd there her Mouth with Kisses.
From her own Hand, held up, those Blisses
Since she my Lips declar'd that hour,
All taken off by Fancy's Power
From th' Hand again, so partly seem'd
To kiss the Lips, prime sweet's esteem'd.