SAY, gentle youthe, that tread'st untouch'd with care,
Where Nature hath so guerdon'd Bathe's gay scene;
Fedde with the songe that daunceth in the aire;
'Midst fairest wealthe of Flora's magazine;
Hath eye or eare yet founde, thine steppes to blesse,
That gem of life y-clep'd true happinesse.