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 And knock'd and call'd, at which celestial noise, The longing heart of Hero much more joys Than nymphs and shepherds, when the timbrel rings, Or crooked dolphin, when the sailor sings. She stay'd not for her robes, but straight arose, And drunk with gladness to the door she goes, Where seeing a naked man, she screech'd for fear, (Such sights as this to tender maids are rare.) And ran into the dark herself to hide: (Rich jewels in the dark are soonest spied.) Unto her was he led, or rather drawn By those white limbs which sparkled through the lawn. The nearer that he came, the more she fled, And, seeking refuge, slipt into her bed; Whereon Leander sitting, thus began, Through numbing cold all feeble, faint and wan.

"If not for love, yet Love! for pity sake, Me in thy bed and maiden bosom take; At least vouchsafe these arms some little room, Who, hoping to embrace thee, cheerly swum. This head was beat with many a churlish billow, And therefore let it rest upon thy pillow."