Let us, my dove; just rub along as planned,
This is the place for the clever pipe to sound.
Should I be ashamed to live content with one girl?
If this be an offence, the offence is loves.
Let no one blame me- Emily, please to share
A dewy bed on mass clad heights;
There, you shall hear the sisters nine haunting
The craggy rocks, and singing the sweet
Thefts of old world Jove. How he burned for Io.
But if there is no one, who ever can
Beat the youthful wingéd ones taut weapons,
Why am I alone guilty of a crime all share?
Their chorus knows what it is to love!
Shall I suffer the holy Ivy to wreathe my head?
You allow me to pluck down the stars by hand!
For without you, my Emily, my heart is powerless!