Who then can think that she designs to proveOur piety, by coldness in our love ?Or make poor lovers sigh, lament, and groan,Or charge her votaries to lie alone ?For Ceres, though she loves the fruitful fields,Yet sometimes feels the force of love, and yields:This Crete can witness, (Crete not always lies)Crete that nurs'd Jove, and heard his infant cries,There he was suckled who now rules the skies.That Jove his education there receiv'd,Will raise her fame, and make her be believ'd;Nay she herself will never strive to hideHer love, 'tis too well known to be denied: