“Nothing I envy, Jove, from this thy sky,”
       Spake Neptune thus, and raised his lofty crest. 
     “God of the waves,” said Jove, “thy pride runs high;
       What more wouldst add to own thy stern behest?”

     “Thou,” spake the god, “dost rule the fiery span,
       The circling spheres, the glittering shafts of day;
     Greater am I, who in the realm of man
       Rule Thames, with all his Nymphs in fair array.

     “In this my breast I hold the fruitful land,
       The vasty reaches of the trembling sea;
     And what in night’s bright dome, or day’s, shall stand
       Before these radiant maids who dwell with me?”

     “Not thine,” said Jove, “god of the watery mount,
       To exceed my lot; but thou my lot shalt share: 
     Thy heavenly maids among my stars I’ll count,
       And thou shalt own the stars beyond compare!”

     THE SONG OF THE NINE SINGERS

     [The first sings and plays the cithern.]

     O cliffs and rocks!  O thorny woods!  O shore! 
     O hills and dales!  O valleys, rivers, seas! 
     How do your new-discovered beauties please? 
     O Nymph, ’tis yours the guerdon rare,
     If now the open skies shine fair;
     O happy wanderings, well spent and o’er!

     [The second sings and plays to his mandolin.]

     O happy wanderings, well spent and o’er! 
     Say then, O Circe, these heroic tears,
     These griefs, endured through tedious months and years,
     Were as a grace divine bestowed
     If now our weary travail is no more.

     [The third sings and plays to his lyre.]

     If now our weary travail is no more! 
     If this sweet haven be our destined rest,
     Then naught remains but to be blest,
     To thank our God for all his gifts,
     Who from our eyes the veil uplifts,
     Where shines the light upon the heavenly shore,

     [The fourth sings to the viol.]

     Where shines the light upon the heavenly shore! 
     O blindness, dearer far than others’ sight! 
     O sweeter grief than earth’s most sweet delight! 
     For ye have led the erring soul
     By gradual steps to this fair goal,
     And through the darkness into light we soar.

     [The fifth sings to a Spanish timbrel.]

     And through the darkness into light we soar! 
     To full fruition all high thought is brought,
     With such brave patience that ev’n we
     At least the only path can see,
     And in his noblest work our God adore.

[The sixth sings to a lute.]

And in his noblest work our God adore! 
God doth not will joy should to joy succeed,
Nor ill shall be of other ill the seed;
But in his hand the wheel of fate
Turns, now depressed and now elate,
Evolving day from night for evermore.