I saw fair Chloris walk alone,
Whilst feather'd rain came softly down,
And Jove descended from his tower
To court her in a silver shower.
The wanton snow flew on her breast
Like little birds unto their nest;
But overcome with whiteness there,
For grief it thaw'd into a tear;
Thence falling on her garment's hem,
To deck her, froze into a gem.
More verses by William Strode
- Remembrances Of The Renowned Knight, Sir Rowland Cotton, Of Bellaport In Shropshire, Concerning
- On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton
- On The Death Of Sir Thomas Lea
- On The Death Of Sir Rowland Cotton Seconding That Of Sir Robert
- On Westwell Downes