Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 3.pdf/57

Rh

Sweet Cythera is a mountain high,

Set in a plain surrounded by

A thick-grown wood, so high indeed,

That mightiest archer ne’er could speed

A shaft its battlements to reach.

Venus, who doth all women teach,

Lights up this spot with sweetest grace,

Making its courts her dwelling-place.

Its joys would I describe, but fear

I might therewith but tire your ear,

And doubt I might grow weary too,

Therefore ’tis passed with brief review.

Queen Venus to the woods was gone

A hunting, but not all alone,

For with her bright Adonis went,

On whom her fondest love was spent.

Almost a boy was he in years,

But huntsman good, untamed by fears,

A comely well-beseeming youth.

Just ripening into man, forsooth.

The hour of noon was overpast

And Venus, wearied, down had cast

Herself beside him on the grass,

Where shadowed by an aspen ’twas,

Near to a bubbling, laughing pool,

Whence panting hounds lapped waters cool.

Their quivers, and their bows unstrung,

Amid the leaves above them hung,

And filled with joy in peace they heard

The carol sweet of many a bird,