Classic Poem

I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle,
As cleare as christall gainst the sunnie beames,
The bottome yeallow, like the golden grayle
That bright Pactolus washeth with his streames:
It seem'd that Art and Nature had assembled
All pleasure there, for which mans hart could long;
And there a noyse alluring sleepe soft trembled,
Of manie accords, more sweete than mermaids song:
The seates and benches shone as yvorie,
And hundred nymphes sate side by side about:
When from nigh hills, with hideous outcrie,
A troupe of satyres in the place did rout,
Which with their villeine feete the streame did ray,
Threw down the seats, and drove the nymphs away.