Some ripened fruits, ſome fragrant honey, bring;

And ſome fetch water from the running ſpring;
While others warble from the boughs, to cheer
Their infant charge, and tune her tender ear. ⁠20
Soon as the ſun forſakes the evening skies,
And hid in ſhades the gloomy foreſt lies,
The nightingales their tuneful vigils keep,
And lull her, with their gentler ſtrains, to ſleep. ⁠24

⁠This the prevailing rumour: as ſhe grew,
No dubious tokens ſpoke the rumour true.
In every forming feature might be ſeen
Some bright reſemblance of the Cyprian queen: ⁠28
Nor was it hard the hunter youth to trace,
In all her early paſſion for the chace:
And when, on ſpringing flowers reclin'd, ſhe ſung,
The birds upon the bending branches hung, ⁠32
While, warbling, ſhe expreſs'd their various ſtrains,
And, at a diſtance, charm'd the liſtening ſwains:
So ſweet her voice reſounded through the wood,
They thought the nymph ſome Siren from the flood. ⁠36

⁠Half human thus by lineage, half divine,

In foreſts did the lonely beauty ſhine,