WHAT time fair TITAN in the zenith sat
And equally the fixèd poles did heat;
When to my flock my daily woes I chat,
And underneath a broad beech took my seat:
The dreaming god, which MORPHEUS Poets call,
Augmenting fuel to my Etna's fire,
With sleep possessing my weak senses all,
In apparitions makes my hopes aspire.
Methought I saw the Nymph I would embrace,
With arms abroad, coming to me for help:
A lust-led Satyr having her in chase;
Which after her, about the fields, did yelp.
I seeing my Love in perplexed plight,
A sturdy bat from off an oak I reft;
And with the ravisher continued fight
Till breathless I upon the earth him left.
Then when my coy Nymph saw her breathless foe,
With kisses kind she gratifies my pain;
Protesting never rigour more to show.
Happy was I this good hap to obtain.
But drowsy slumbers, flying to their cell,
My sudden joy convertèd was to bale.
My wontèd sorrows still with me do dwell.
I lookèd round about on hill and dale:
But I could neither my fair CHLORIS view;
Not yet the Satyr, which erst while I slew.