The fountain shivers lightly in the rain,
   The laurels drip, the fading roses fall,
The marble satyr plays a mournful strain
   That leaves the rainy fragrance musical.

Oh dripping laurel, Phoebus sacred tree,
   Would that swift Daphne’s lot might come to me,
Then would I still my soul and for an hour
   Change to a laurel in the glancing shower.