Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race,
Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place;
For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear,
Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year;
Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly,
Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.
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Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the read more
Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the lip.
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit read more
Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face,
She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.
Speak of the gods as they are.
Speak of the gods as they are.
Yet verily these issues lie on the lap of the gods.
Yet verily these issues lie on the lap of the gods.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
read more
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis read more
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis Berenice blest and fair; were she
Away the Graces would no Graces be.
Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your read more
Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your device,
. . . .
All things wait for and divine him,--
How shall I dare to malign him?
