" With her mien fhe enamours the brave; She is every way pleafing to me. O you II. that have been of her train, Come and join in my amorous lays; I could lay down my life for the fwain Nay on Him let not Phyllida frown; III. For when Paridel tries in the dance Might the ruin the peace of my mind! In ringlets He dreffes his hair, And his crook is be-ftudded around; Of a magic there is in the found. IV. 'Tis IV. 'Tis His with mock paffion to glow; V. To the grove or the garden he strays, Then, fuiting the wreath to his lays "O Phyllis, he whispers, more fair, "More sweet than the jeffainin's flow'r! "What are pinks, in a morn, to compare? "What is eglantine after a fhow'r? VI. "Then the lily no longer is white; "Then the rose is depriv'd of its bloom; "Then the violets die with defpight, "And the wood-bines give up their perfume." Thus Thus glide the foft numbers along, And he fancies no fhepherd his peer; Let his crook be with hyacinths bound, Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd, IV. DISAPPOINTMENT. I. E fhepherds give ear to my lay, YE And take no more heed of my fheep: They have nothing to do, but to ftray; I have nothing to do, but to weep. Yet do not my folly reprove; II. Perhaps I was void of all thought That a nymph fo compleat would be fought And the lip of the nymph we admire She is faithlefs, and I am undone ; What it cannot inftruct you to cure. Amid nymphs of an higher degree: It is not for me to explain How fair, and how fickle they be. Alas! from the day that we met, What hope of an end to my woes? When I cannot endure to forget I Yet Yet time may diminish the pain: The flow'r, and the fhrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain, In time may have comfort for me. V. The sweets of a dew-sprinkled rose, The found of a murmuring stream, The peace which from folitude flows, Henceforth fhall be Corydon's theme. High transports are fhewn to the fight, But we are not to find them our own; Fate never bestow'd fuch delight, VI. O ye woods, fpread your branches apace; I would hide with the beasts of the chace; Yet my reed fhall refound through the grove With the fame fad complaint it begun; How fhe fmil'd, and I could not but love; Was faithless, and I am undone ! |