Classic Poem

Ah! soft wanton zephyrs soft blow,
On th' bank is Miranda reclin'd;
Disturb not those hillocks of snow,
Which alternate rise with the wind.

Distil from each fragrant flower,
The sweets which your breath can impart;
And Love, let her feel thy soft pow'r,
But cautiously wound with thy dart.

Be certain you strike not too deep,
Nor give her fair bosom a pain;
And, ah! when awaken'd from sleep,
For pity she'll love you again.

Then Love, grant a shepherd's request,
The gods will approve the decree;
O make thy petitioner blest,
And transfer that pity to me.