Chloe Divine

Chloe 's a Nymph in flowery groves,   A Nereid in the streams; Saint-like she in the temple moves,   A woman in my dreams. Love steals artillery from her eyes,   The Graces point her charms; Orpheus is rivall'd in her voice,   And Venus in her arms. Never so happily in one   Did heaven and earth combine: And yet 'tis flesh and blood alone   That makes her so divine.