Venus whose fair Deity
Cnidus doth and Cyprus sway,
Round about the Cupids fly,
And the wanton Graces play.

Thee our pious Mother Earth,
Life, and love of plants desires,
Trees receive, and give new birth,
Warm'd with thy enlivening fires.

Thee the thirsty furrows call,
When in drops of welcome rain,
Gems from thy rich bosome fall,
And adorn the glittring plain.

On the Heliconian Hill,
And Olympus simples grow,
Fed by thee, to which their skill
Chiron, and wise Circe owe.

In a blush the Rose her shame
Doth for wounding thee discover,
Yet, to sooth thy amorous flame
Wears the picture of thy Lover.

Over all, thy power presides;
What the foodful Earth maintains,
What through air or water glides,
Or the dark Abisse restrains.

Thee the nights black Regent knew,
When ore Ætna his fair prize,
Swift Tartarian Horses drew,
Shook the Earth, ore-cast the Skies.

On the liquid Marble Plain,
Thy sharp darts impression make,
Not the waters of the Main,
Could the fires of Neptune slake.

Gods Celestail Thee have felt
Slily proving strange escapes,
Jove himself thy flame did melt
Into misbeseeming shapes.

The kinde heat thy Torch inspires
In young virgins, no art smothers:
Not thy self is from those fires
Free, with which thou scorchest others.

Some remains of Mars's love,
Yet in thy warm breast are left,
May he ever constant prove,
Nor the Sun betray your theft.

Men and Maids thy Name invoke,
That, in thy strict fetters bound,
They may joyntly bear thy yoke,
Be with numerous issue crown'd.

Flowers and Mirtles see we bring,
With our gifts thy Altars blaze,
Boyes imposing incense, sing,
Virgins answer in thy praise.

Erycine appear, appear,
Thy bright star no longer hide
Come enjoy thy pleasures here,
Freely as on wondring Ide.