Strephon Come, my Daphne, come away,
We do waste the crystal day.
Daphne ’Tis Strephon calls: what says my love?
Strephon Come follow to the myrtle grove,
Where Venus shall prepare
New chaplets for thy hair.
Daphne Were I shut up within a tree,
I’d rend my bark to follow thee.
Strephon My shepherdess, make haste,
The minutes slide too fast.
Daphne In those cooler shades will I,
Blind as Cupid, kiss thine eye.
Strephon In thy bosom then I’ll stay,
In such warm snow who would not lose his way?
Both We’ll laugh and leave the world behind,
And gods themselves that see,
Shall envy thee and me;
But never find
Such joys, when they embrace a deity.