To His Fairest Valentine Mrs A L

"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,

    And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;

    Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be

    Employ'd to serve her deity:

    And warble forth, ye virgins nine,

    Some music to my Valentine.

   "Her bosom is love's paradise,

    There is no heav'n but in her eyes;

    She's chaster than the turtle-dove,

    And fairer than the queen of love:

    Yet all perfections do combine

    To beautifie my Valentine.

   "She's Nature's choicest cabinet,

    Where honour, beauty, worth and wit

    Are all united in her breast.

    The graces claim an interest:

    All virtues that are most divine

    Shine clearest in my Valentine."

    And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;

    Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be

    Employ'd to serve her deity:

    And warble forth, ye virgins nine,

    Some music to my Valentine.

   "Her bosom is love's paradise,

    There is no heav'n but in her eyes;

    She's chaster than the turtle-dove,

    And fairer than the queen of love:

    Yet all perfections do combine

    To beautifie my Valentine.

   "She's Nature's choicest cabinet,

    Where honour, beauty, worth and wit

    Are all united in her breast.

    The graces claim an interest:

    All virtues that are most divine

    Shine clearest in my Valentine."