How Sweet in the Woodlands

How sweet in the woodlands,
With fleet hound and horn,
To awaken shrill Echo,
And taste the fresh morn;
But hard is the chace,
My fond heart must persue,
For Daphne, fair Daphne,
Is lost to my view.

Assist me chaste Dian,
The nymph to regain,
More wild that the roebuck,
And wing?d with disdain;
In pity o?ertake her,
Who wounds as she flies;
Through Daphne?s pursues,
?Tis Myrtillo that dies.

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