Where Zephirs ſweep their breezey gales, / And fragrant blooms perfumes the vales, / With varied ſweets, gay nature charms, / But not like thoſe in Anna’s arms, / The ſoftly dimpling ſtream that plays, / Meand‘ring ſweetly murmuring ſtrays, / More ſoft then that, or cooing dove, / Is Anna, when ſhe ſays I love.
Source: wiktionary