To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.

Only with speeches fair

She woos the gentle air

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow :

And on her naked shame,

Pollute with sinful blame,

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ;

Confounded, that her Maker's eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

But he, her fears to cease,

Sent down the meek-eyed Peace;

She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding

Down through the turning sphere,

His ready Harbinger,

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing;

And, waving wide her myrtle wand,

She strikes an universal peace through sea and land.

WJP

No war, or battle's sound,

Was heard the world around:

The idle spear and shield were high up hung;

The hooked chariot stood

Unstain'd with hostile blood;