A Hymn to Venus (Third Hymn)
To Cyprian Venus still my verses vow,
Who gifts as sweet as honey doth bestow
On all mortality; that ever smiles,
And rules a face that all foes reconciles;
Ever sustaining in her hand a flow’r
That all desire keeps ever in her pow’r.
Hail, then, O Queen of well-built Salamine,
And all the state that Cyprus doth confine,
Inform my song with that celestial fire
That in thy beauties kindles all desire.
So shall my Muse for ever honour thee,
And any other thou commend’st to me.