To His Fairest Valentine Mrs A L

"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,     And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;     Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be     Employ'd to serve her deity:     And warble forth, ye virgins nine,     Some music to my Valentine.    "Her bosom is love's paradise,     There is no heav'n but in her eyes;     She's chaster than the turtle-dove,     And fairer than the queen of love:     Yet all perfections do combine     To beautifie my Valentine.    "She's Nature's choicest cabinet,     Where honour, beauty, worth and wit     Are all united in her breast.     The graces claim an interest:     All virtues that are most divine     Shine clearest in my Valentine."     And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;     Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be     Employ'd to serve her deity:     And warble forth, ye virgins nine,     Some music to my Valentine.    "Her bosom is love's paradise,     There is no heav'n but in her eyes;     She's chaster than the turtle-dove,     And fairer than the queen of love:     Yet all perfections do combine     To beautifie my Valentine.    "She's Nature's choicest cabinet,     Where honour, beauty, worth and wit     Are all united in her breast.     The graces claim an interest:     All virtues that are most divine     Shine clearest in my Valentine."