I

O come Lavinia, lovely maid,
Said Dion, stretch'd at ease,
Beneath the walnut's fragrant shade,
A sweet retreat! by nature made
With elegance to please.

II

O leave the court's deceitful glare,
Loath'd pageantry and pride,
Come taste our solid pleasures here.
Which angels need not blush to share,
And with bless'd men divide.

III

What raptures were it in these bow'rs,
Fair virgin, chaste, and wise,
With thee to lose the learned hours,
And note the beauties in these flowers,
Conceal'd from vulgar eyes.

IV

For thee my gaudy garden blooms,
And richly colour'd glows;
Above the pomp of royal rooms,
Or purpled works of Persian looms,
Proud palaces disclose.

V

Haste, nymph, nor let me sigh in vain,
Each grace attends on thee;
Exalt my bliss, and point my strain,
For love and truth are of thy train,
Content and harmony.