Count me, on the summer trees,

Every leaf that courts the breeze;

Count me, on the foamy deep,

Every wave that sinks to sleep;

Then, when you have numbered these

Billowy tides and leafy trees,

Count me all the flames I prove,

All the gentle nymphs I love.

First, of pure Athenian maids

Sporting in their olive shades,

You may reckon just a score,

Nay, I'll grant you fifteen more.

In the famed Corinthian grove,

Where such countless wantons rove,[2]

Chains of beauties may be found,

Chains, by which my heart is bound;

There, indeed, are nymphs divine,

Dangerous to a soul like mine.

Many bloom in Lesbos' isle;

Many in Ionia smile;

Rhodes a pretty swarm can boast;

Caria too contains a host.

Sum them all—of brown and fair

You may count two thousand there.

What, you stare? I pray you peace!

More I'll find before I cease.

Have I told you all my flames,

'Mong the amorous Syrian dames?

Have I numbered every one,

Glowing under Egypt's sun?

Or the nymphs, who blushing sweet

Deck the shrine of Love in Crete;

Where the God, with festal play,

Holds eternal holiday?

Still in clusters, still remain

Gades' warm, desiring train:[3]

Still there lies a myriad more

On the sable India's shore;

These, and many far removed,

All are loving—all are loved!

[1] The poet, in this catalogue of his mistresses, means nothing more, than, by a lively hyperbole, to inform us, that his heart, unfettered by any one object, was warm with devotion towards the sex in general. Cowley is indebted to this ode for the hint of his ballad, called "The Chronicle."

[2] Corinth was very famous for the beauty and number of its courtesans. Venus was the deity principally worshipped by the people, and their constant prayer was, that the gods should increase the number of her worshippers.

[3] The music of the Gaditanian females had all the voluptuous character of their dancing, as appears from Martial.