On the Image of a Satyre in a Fountain and Love Sleeping
A skilfull hand this Satyre made so near
To life, that only Breath is wanting here:
I am attendant to the Nymphs; before
I fill'd out purple wine, now water powre;
Who ere thou art com'st nigh, tread softly, lest
You waken Love out of his pleasing rest.
To life, that only Breath is wanting here:
I am attendant to the Nymphs; before
I fill'd out purple wine, now water powre;
Who ere thou art com'st nigh, tread softly, lest
You waken Love out of his pleasing rest.
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