While thus I did exclaime,
And wildly rage and blame,
Behold the _Sylvan_-Quire
Did all at one conspire,
With shrill and cheerful Throats,
T'assume their chirping Notes;
The Heav'ns refulgent Eye
Dance't in the clear'd-up Skie,
And so triumphant shon,
As seven-days Beams he had on!
The little Loves burn'd with Nobler Fire,
Each chang'd his wanton Bow, and took a Lyre,
Singing chast Aires unto the tuneful strings,
And time'd soft Musick with their downy Wings.
I turn'd the little Nymph to view,
She singing and did smiling shew;
_Eudora_ led a heavenly strain,
Her Angels Voice did eccho it again!
I then decreed no Sacriledge was wrought,
But neerer Heav'n this Piece of Heaven was brought.
She also brighter seem'd, than she had been,
Vertue darts forth a Lightning 'bove the Skin.
_Eudora_ also shew'd as heretofore,
When her soft Graces I did first adore.
I saw, what one did _Nobly Will_,
The other _sweetly did fulfil_;
Their Actions all harmoniously did sute,
And she had only tun'd the Lady like her Lute.
On the Soft and Gentle Motions of Eudora.
Divine _Thalia_ strike th'Harmonious Lute,
But with a Stroke so Gentle as may sute
The silent gliding of the Howers,
Or yet the calmer growth of Flowers;
Th'ascending or the falling Dew,
Which none can see, though all find true.
For thus alone,
Can be shewn,
How downie, how smooth,
_Eudora_ doth Move,
How Silken her Actions appear,
The Aire of her Face,
Of a gentler Grace
Then those that do stroke the Eare.
Her Address so sweet,
So Modestly Meet,
That 'tis not the Lowd though Tuneable String,
Can shewforth so soft, so Noyseless a Thing!
O This to express from thy Hand must fall,
Then Musicks self, something more Musical.
_FINIS._