“Ridebunt valles, ridebunt obvia Tempe,
        In florem viridis protinus ibi humus.”

       “The fields will laugh, the pleasant valleys burn,
        And all the grass will into flowers turn.”

Omnis Ambrosiam spirabit aura. [5467]"When she is in the meadow, she is fairer than any flower, for that lasts but for a day, the river is pleasing, but it vanisheth on a sudden, but thy flower doth not fade, thy stream is greater than the sea.  If I look upon the heaven, methinks I see the sun fallen down to shine below, and thee to shine in his place, whom I desire.  If I look upon the night, methinks I see two more glorious stars, Hesperus and thyself.”  A little after he thus courts his mistress, [5468] “If thou goest forth of the city, the protecting gods that keep the town will run after to gaze upon thee:  if thou sail upon the seas, as so many small boats, they will follow thee:  what river would not run into the sea?” Another, he sighs and sobs, swears he hath Cor scissum, a heart bruised to powder, dissolved and melted within him, or quite gone from him, to his mistress’ bosom belike, he is in an oven, a salamander in the fire, so scorched with love’s heat; he wisheth himself a saddle for her to sit on, a posy for her to smell to, and it would not grieve him to be hanged, if he might be strangled in her garters:  he would willingly die tomorrow, so that she might kill him with her own hands. [5469]Ovid would be a flea, a gnat, a ring, Catullus a sparrow,

[5470] “O si tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem,
        Et tristes animi levare curas.”

[5471]Anacreon, a glass, a gown, a chain, anything,

       “Sed speculum ego ipse fiam,
        Ut me tuum usque cernas,
        Et vestis ipse fiam,
        Ut me tuum usque gestes. 
        Mutari et opto in undam,
        Lavem tuos ut artus,
        Nardus puella fiam,
        Ut ego teipsum inungam,
        Sim fascia in papillis,
        Tuo et monile collo. 
        Fiamque calceus, me
        Saltem ut pede usque calces.”

[5472] “But I a looking-glass would be,
        Still to be look’d upon by thee,
        Or I, my love, would be thy gown,
        By thee to be worn up and down;
        Or a pure well full to the brims,
        That I might wash thy purer limbs: 
        Or, I’d be precious balm to ’noint,
        With choicest care each choicest joint;
        Or, if I might, I would be fain
        About thy neck thy happy chain,
        Or would it were my blessed hap
        To be the lawn o’er thy fair pap. 
        Or would I were thy shoe, to be
        Daily trod upon by thee.”

O thrice happy man that shall enjoy her:  as they that saw Hero in Museus, and [5473]Salmacis to Hermaphroditus,