Strephon:
 Come, my Daphne, come away,
 We do waste the crystal day.

Daphne:
 'Tis Strephon calls; what would my love?

Strephon:
 Come follow to the myrtle grove,
 where Venus shall prepare
 new chaplets for thy hair.

Daphne:
 Were I shut up within a tree,
 I'd rend my bark to follow thee.

Strephon:
 My shepherdess make haste,
 the minutes slide so fast.

Daphne:
 In those cooler shades will I
 blind as Cupid kiss your eye.

Strephon:
 In thy bosom then I'll stray,
 in such warm snow who would not lose his way?

Both :
 We'll laugh and leave this world behind,
 and gods themselves that see
 shall envy thee and me,
 but never find such joys when they embrace a deity.