Chloris in the Snow - William Strode

I saw fair Chloris walk alone,

When feather'd rain came softly down,

As Jove descending from his Tower

To court her in a silver shower:

The wanton snow flew to her breast,

Like pretty birds into their nest,

But, overcome with whiteness there,

For grief it thaw'd into a tear:

Thence falling on her garments' hem,

To deck her, froze into a gem.