III. _Song._
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ymphs and Shepherds, dance no moreBy sandy Ladon's lilied banks;On old Lycaeus, or Cyllene hoar,Trip no more in twilight ranks;Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 100A better soil shall give ye thanks.From the stony MaenalusBring your flocks, and live with us;Here ye shall have greater grace,To serve the Lady of this place. 105Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were,Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.Such a rural QueenAll Arcadia hath not seen.
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