Classic Poem

Come , my Daphne, come away,
We do waste the crystal day;
'Tis Strephon calls. Daphne:
What ways my love? Strephon:
Come, follow to the myrtle grove,
Where Venus shall prepare
New chaplets for thy hair. Daphne:
Were I shut up within a tree,
I'd rend my bark to follow thee. Strephon:
My shepherdess, make haste,
The minutes slide too fast. Daphne:
In those cooler shades will I,
Blind as Cupid, kiss thine eye. Strephon:
In thy bosom then I'll stay;
In such warm snow who would not lose his way. Chorus:
We'll laugh and leave the world behind;
And gods themselves that see
Shall envy thee and me,
But never find
Such joys, when they embrace a deity.