Chloe Divine

Chloe's a Nymph in flowery groves,
A Nereid in the streams;
Saint-like she in the temple moves,
A woman in my dreams.

Love steals artillery from her eyes,
The Graces point her charms;
Orpheus is rivall'd in her voice,
And Venus in her arms.

Never so happily in one
Did heaven and earth combine:
And yet 'tis flesh and blood alone
That makes her so divine.