  Of Neptune's empire let us sing, At whose command the waves obey; To whom the rivers tribute pay, Down the high mountains sliding; To whom the scaly nation yields Homage for the crystal fields Wherein they dwell; Yearly out of his watery cell, To deck great Neptune's diadem. The Tritons dancing in a ring, Before his palace gates do make The water with their echoes quake, Like the great thunder sounding: The sea-nymphs chaunt their accents shrill, And the Syrens taught to kill With their sweet voice, Make every echoing rock reply, Unto their gentle murmuring noise, The praise of Neptune's empery. T. Campion |
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