Clear Ancor, on whose silver-sanded shore <br /> My soul-shrin'd saint, my fair Idea lies, <br /> O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore <br /> Thy crystal stream, refined by her eyes, <br /> Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the spring <br /> Gently distills his nectar-dropping showers, <br /> Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing <br /> Amongst the dainty dew-impearled flowers; <br /> Say thus, fair brook, when thou shalt see thy queen: <br /> Lo, here thy shepherd spent his wand'ring years, <br /> And in these shades, dear nymph, he oft hath been, <br /> And here to thee he sacrific'd his tears. <br /> Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone, <br /> And thou, sweet Ancor, art my Helicon.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/idea-liii-to-the-river-ancor/
