Poetry Archives

Chloe’s a Nymph in flowery groves,
  A Nereid in the streams;
Saint-like she in the temple moves,
  A woman in my dreams.

Love steals artillery from her eyes,
  The Graces point her charms;
Orpheus is rivall’d in her voice,
  And Venus in her arms.

Never so happily in one
  Did heaven and earth combine:
And yet ’tis flesh and blood alone
  That makes her so divine.