Classic Poem

Thou divinest, fairest, brightest,
Thou most powerful maid, and whitest,
Thou most vertuous and most blessed,
Eyes of stars, and golden tressed
Like Apollo , tell me sweetest
What new service now is meetest
For the Satyr ? shall I stray
In the middle air and stay
The sayling Rack, or nimbly take
Hold by the Moon, and gently make
Sute to the pale Queen of night
For a beam to give thee light?
Shall I dive into the Sea,
And bring thee Coral, making way
Through the rising waves that fall
In snowie fleeces; dearest, shall
I catch the wanton Fawns, or Flyes,
Whose woven wings the Summer dyes
Of many colours? get thee fruit?
Or steal from Heaven old Orpheus Lute?
All these I'll venture for, and more,
To do her service all these woods adore.
Holy Virgin, I will dance
Round about these woods as quick
As the breaking light, and prick
Down the lawns, and down the vails
Faster than the Wind-mill sails
So I take my leave, and pray
All the comforts of the day,
Such as Phaebus heat doth send
On the earth, may still befriend
Thee, and this arbour.