To whom, Love, should i compare
Whence you come so, with youthful air
That turns me young, fruitful in thy eyes,
Tell me, love, where you should reside?
Whence in every form of my Living
In my wakeful days and sleeping
You I find pouring as if ambrosia,
To whom should you, do compare
Whence you thus come with Thy smiles
Whence for you can I go walking
Miles after miles,
Art thou Hebe then, the Goddess of youth
Who for all brought once songs of Truth
Intoxicating even Gods with Her Beauty awesome,
Tell me, love, art not You for me,
That wholesome,
Whence you quench my thirst by thy Beauty and Grace,
Whence You make Nature wear newest dress,
Art not that GODDESS of Spring too,
Like Proserpine, singing a soft cuddly tune,
Tell me, love, with whom You should I compare
Whence you come with such soothing air.
(*Note: upon a painting loosely based as attached, depicting Hebe, The Goddess of Spring and Youth helping The Eagle of Jupiter with a bowl of Water, courtesy : Artist G.Hamilton)
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