Prais’d be Diana’s fair and harmless light;
Prais’d be the dews wherewith she moists the ground;
Prais’d be her beams, the glory of the night;
Prais’d be her power by which all powers abound.

Prais’d be her nymphs with whom she decks the woods,
Prais’d be her knights in whom true honour lives;
Prais’d be that force by which she moves the floods;
Let that Diana shine which all these gives.

In heaven queen she is among the spheres;
In aye she mistress-like makes all things pure;
Eternity in her oft change she bears;
She beauty is; by her the fair endure.

Time wears her not: she doth his chariot guide;
Mortality below her orb is plac’d;
By her the virtue of the stars down slide;
In her is virtue’s perfect image cast.

      A knowledge pure it is her worth to know:
      With Circes let them dwell that think not so.

A bright smile,
On that chuckling face.
Like the moonlight,
Playing the waves.

A slow kiss,
That moists her lips.
And she moans the touch,
As my tongue slips.

The fire in us,
It burns our heart.
Blending our bodies,
Not to go apart.

A crave of lust,
Caresses our thirst.
The wildness in us,
Flint's it to burst.

But it's so love filled,
Faith is our arm.
With respect in us,
That keeps it warm.