Ambrose Philips,
Pastorals Epistles Odes
(1748)
“ They thought the nymph some Siren from the flood. 36Half human thus by lineage, half divine,In forests did the lonely beauty shine, Like wood-land flowers, which paint the desert glades,And waste their sweets in unfrequented shades. 40No human face she saw, and rarely seenBy human face: a solitary queenShe rul'd, and rang'd, her shady empire round.No horn the silent huntress bears; no hound, 44With noisy cry, disturbs her solemn chace,Swift, as the bounding stag, she wings her pace;And, bend when-e'er she will her ebon bow,A speedy death arrests the flying foe. ”
