Her feet be pursuivants from Cupid sent, With whose fine steps all loves and joys conspire. The hidden beauties, seem’d in wait to lie, To down proud hearts that would not willing die. That, fast he fled from her he follow’d sore, Still shunning Nous to lengthen pleasing race, ’Till that he spied old Geron could no more, Than did he stack his love-instructed pace. So that Uran, whose arm old Geron bore, Laid hold on him with most lay-holding grace. So caught, him seem’d he caught of joys the bell, And thought it heav’n so to be drawn to hell: To hell he goes, and Nous with him must dwell, Nous sware it was no right; for his default Who would be caught, that she should go to hell: But so she must. And now the third assault Of Barley-break among the six befell, Pas Colma match’d, yet angry with his fault, The other end Geron with guard: I think you think Strephon bent thitherward. Nous counsell’d Strephon Geron to pursue, For he was old, and easy would be caught: But he drew her as love his fancy drew, And so to take the gem Urania sought, While Geron old came safe to Cosma true, Though him to meet at all she stirred nought. For Pas, whether it were for fear or love, Mov’d not himself, nor suffer’d her to move. So they three did together idly stay, While dear Uran, whose course was Pas to meet, (He staying thus) was fain abroad to stray {116} With larger round, to shun the following feet. Strephon, whose eyes on her back parts did play, With love drawn on so fast with pace unmeet, Drew dainty Nous, that she not able so To run, brake forth his hands, and let him go, He single thus hop’d soon with her to be, Who nothing earthly, but of fire and air, Though with soft legs did run as fast as he. He thrice reach’d, thrice deceiv’d, when her to bear He hopes, with dainty turns she doth him flee. So on the Downs we see, near Wilton fair, A hasten’d hare from greedy greyhound go, And past all hope his chaps to frustrate so. But this strange race more strange conceits did yield; Who victor seem’d, was to his ruin brought: Who seem’d o’erthrown was mistress of the field: She fled, and took; he followed and was caught. She have I heard to pierce pursuing shield, By parents train’d the Tartars wild are taught, With shafts shot out from their back-turned bow. But ah! her darts did far more deeply go. As Venus’s bird, the white, swift, lovely Dove, (O happy Doves that are compar’d to her!) Doth on her wings her utmost swiftness prove, Finding the gripe of Falcon fierce not furr: So did Uran: the nar, the swifter move, (Yet beauty still as fast as she did stir) ’Till with long race dear she was breathless brought, And then the Phoenix feared to be caught. Among the rest that there did take delight To see the sports of double shining day: And did the tribute of their wond’ring sight To nature’s heir, the fair Urania pay,