The Power of Love over Gods Them Selves
For love Appollo (his Godhead set aside)
Was servant to the kyng of Thessaley,
Whose daughter was so pleasant in his eye,
That bothe his harpe and sawtrey he defide,
And bagpipe solace of the rurall bride,
Did puffe and blowe and on the holtes hy,
His cattell kept with that rude melody.
And oft eke him that doth the heavens gyde
Hath love transformed to shapes for him too base.
Transmuted thus sometime a swan is he,
Leda taccoye, and oft Europe to please,
A milde white bull, unwrinckled front and face,
Suffreth her play tyll on his back lepeth she,
Whom in great care he ferieth through the seas.
Was servant to the kyng of Thessaley,
Whose daughter was so pleasant in his eye,
That bothe his harpe and sawtrey he defide,
And bagpipe solace of the rurall bride,
Did puffe and blowe and on the holtes hy,
His cattell kept with that rude melody.
And oft eke him that doth the heavens gyde
Hath love transformed to shapes for him too base.
Transmuted thus sometime a swan is he,
Leda taccoye, and oft Europe to please,
A milde white bull, unwrinckled front and face,
Suffreth her play tyll on his back lepeth she,
Whom in great care he ferieth through the seas.
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