THOMAS D’URFEY

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 rivalled 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.