All my endeavors, as I gained them free. Of all green wounds I know the remedies In men or cattle, be they stung with snakes, Or charmed with powerful words of wicked art; Or be they love-sick, or through too much heat Grown wild, or lunatic; their eyes, or ears, Thickened with misty film of dulling rheum: These I can cure, such secret virtue lies In herbs applied by a virgin's hand. My meat shall be what these wild woods afford, Berries and chestnuts, plantains, on whose cheeks The sun sits smiling, and the lofty fruit Pulled from the fair head of the straight-grown pine. On these I'll feed with free content and rest, When night shall blind the world, by thy side blessed [_A Satyr enters_.] _Satyr_--Through yon same bending plain That flings his arms down to the main, And through these thick woods have I run, Whose bottom never kissed the sun. Since the lusty spring began, All to please my master Pan, Have I trotted without rest To get him fruit; for at a feast He entertains this coming night His paramour the Syrinx bright: But behold a fairer sight! By that heavenly form of thine, Brightest fair, thou art divine, Sprung from great immortal race Of the gods, for in thy face Shines more awful majesty Than dull weak mortality Dare with misty eyes behold, And live: therefore on this mold Lowly do I bend my knee In worship of thy deity. Deign it, goddess, from my hand To receive whate'er this land From her fertile womb doth send Of her choice fruits; and--but lend Belief to that the Satyr tells-- Fairer by the famous wells To this present day ne'er grew, Never better, nor more true. Here be grapes, whose lusty blood Is the learned poet's good; Sweeter yet did never crown The head of Bacchus: nuts more brown Than the squirrels' teeth that crack them; Deign, O fairest fair, to take them. For these, black-eyed Driope Hath oftentimes commanded me With my clasped knee to climb. See how well the lusty time Hath decked their rising cheeks in red, Such as on your lips is spread. Here be berries for a queen;