I rage!
I rage! I rage!
I melt!
I burn!
O
feeble God,
hast stabbed me to the heart!
Thou trusty pine,
rope of my godlike steps,
I lay thee by!
Bring me a hundred reeds of decent growth
To make a pipe for my capacious mouth!
In soft
enchanting accents let me breathe
Sweet Galatea's beauty and my love!
O radier than the cherry,
O sweeter than the berry,
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O radier than the cherry,
O sweeter than the berry,
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
Ride past the melting cluster,
No lily has such luster,
Yet hard to tame as a raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster!
Yet hard to tame as a raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster!
Yet hard to tame as a raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster!
O radier than the cherry,
O sweeter than the berry,
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O radier than the cherry,
O sweeter than the berry,
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!
O nymph more bright than moonshine night,
Like a kittling sly than Mary!