Cloris Singing

Yes, yes, 'tis Cloris sings, 'tis she;

Mark how the Nymphs and Shepheards all

Flock to her: so the Master Bee

The swarm leads with his awfull call;

So to the Thracian Lyre the floods

Resorted, and the listning woods:

So shoals of Dolphins on the green wav's spring,

When Doris or her Sea-born daughters sing.

And so her Notes ther hearts benum:

One looks pale, others eyes ore flow

With tears of pleasure, perhaps some,

Distill from sad hearts, teares of woe;

But as if fetter'd in a chain

To soft their passions felt no paine,

Shee stops no sooner, but th'inchanted throng

Straight cry, sweet Cloris sing an other song.