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.