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By the Same.



ERE in cool grot, and mosfy cell,

We rural fays and faeries dwell:
Tho' rarely seen by mortal eye,
When the pale moon, ascending high,
Darts thro' yon' limes her quivering beams,
We frisk it near these crystal streams.

Her beams, reflected from the wave,',
Afford the light our revels crave ;
The turf, with daisies broider'd o'er,
Exceeds, we wot, the Parian floor;
Nor yet for artful strains we call,
But listen to the water's fall.

Would you then taste our tranquil scene,
Be sure your bosoms be ferene;
Devoid of hate, devoid of strife,
Devoid of all that poisons life ;
And much it ’vails you, in their place,
To graft the love of human race.


And tread with awe these favour'd bow'rs,
Nor wound the shrubs nor bruise the flow'rs;
So may your path with sweets abound !
So may your couch with reft be crown'd!
But harm betide the wayward swain,
Who dares our hallow'd haunts profane !


II. In a shady Valley, near a running Water.

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! Let me haunt this peaceful shade ;

Nor let ambition e'er invade
The tenants of this leafy bow'r,
That sun her paths, and flight her pow'r.

Hither the plaintive halcyon Aies
From social meads and


skies 5; Pleas'd, by this rill, her course to steer, And hide her saphire plumage here.

The trout, bedropt with crimson stains,
Forsakes the river's proud domains ;
Forsakes the sun's unwelcome gleam,
To lurk within this humble stream.

And sure I hear the Naiad say,
Flow, flow, my stream ! this devious way;
Tho' lovely soft thy murmurs are,

Thy waters, lovely cool and fair !

« Flow,

Flow gentle stream ! nor let the vain
“ Thy small unsully’d stores disdain :
“ Nor let the penfive fage repine,
" Whose latent course resembles thine."

III. On a small Building in the Gothick Taste.

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you that batbe in courtly blytie!

Dz togle in foztune's giddy (pheare !
Doo not too rashly deeme amylle

DE him, that bydes contentid here.

202 yet dildeigne the rulet Goale,

adlhych o'er each careretle Iymbe he flyngs: Roz yet deryde the beechen bowle,

3n wheche he quaffs the Iympid (płyngs.

FozØyve hym, if, at eve oz dawne,

Deboyde of wozidiye carke he Cray:
Dz, all belyde Come flowerge lawne,

he watte bis inoxenlive day.

So may He pardonne fraud and trife,

3f such in courtlye haunt he fee : Foz faults there beene in bulye lyfe,

From wheche these peaceful glennes are free.

A Pastoral

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E shepherds fo chearful and gay,

Whose flocks never carelessly roam ;
Should Corydon's happen to stray,

Oh! call the poor wanderers home.
Allow me to muse and to sigh,

Nor talk of the change that ye find;
None once was so watchful as I:
I have left my dear Phyllis behind.

Now I know what it is, to have strove

With the torture of doubt and desire ;
What it is, to admire and to love,

And to leave her we love and admire.
Ah lead forth my flock in the morn,

And the damps of each ev’ning repell;
Alas! I am faint and forlorn :
-I have bade my dear Phyllis farewell.

III. Since

Since Phyllis vouchsaf'd me a look,

I never once dreamt of my vine ;
May I lose both my pipe and my crook,

If I knew of a kid that was mine.
I priz'd every hour that went by,

Beyond all that had pleas'd me before; But now they are part, and I figh;

And I grieve that I priz’d them no more.


But why do I languish in vain?

Why wander thus pensively here? Oh! why did I come from the plain,

Where I fed on the smiles of my dear?
They tell me, my favourite maid,

The pride of that valley, is flown;
Alas! where with her I have stray'd,
I could wander with pleasure, alone.

When forc'd the fair nymph to forego,

What anguish I felt at my heart !
Yet' I thought-but it might not be fom

'Twas with pain that she saw me depart. She gaz'd, as I flowly withdrew;

My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly the bade me adieu,

I thought that the bade me return,

VI. The

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