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 rival'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.