Phœbus! Euen the Swann from forth her wings,(Jumping her proyning-banck) thee sweetly sings,By bright Peneus, whirle-pit-making-streames.Thee, that thy Lute; mak'st sound so to thy Beames.Thee, first and last, the sweete-voic't singer, stillSings; for thy songs-all-songs-transcending skill.Thy Pleasure then; shall my song still supply:And so salutes thee, King of Poësie.
Phœbus! Euen the Swann from forth her wings,(Jumping her proyning-banck) thee sweetly sings,By bright Peneus, whirle-pit-making-streames.Thee, that thy Lute; mak'st sound so to thy Beames.Thee, first and last, the sweete-voic't singer, stillSings; for thy songs-all-songs-transcending skill. Thy Pleasure then; shall my song still supply: And so salutes thee, King of Poësie.
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Phœbus! Euen the Swann from forth her wings,(Jumping her proyning-banck) thee sweetly sings,By bright Peneus, whirle-pit-making-streames.Thee, that thy Lute; mak'st sound so to thy Beames.Thee, first and last, the sweete-voic't singer, stillSings; for thy songs-all-songs-transcending skill. Thy Pleasure then; shall my song still supply: And so salutes thee, King of Poësie._-_fleuron_type_1.png)