11.

And as the paffed by

With a fcornful glance of her eye,
What a fhame, quoth fhe,

For a fwain muft it be,

Like a lazy loon for to die!

III.

And doft thou nothing heed,
What Pan our god has decreed;
What a prize to-day

Shall be given away,
To the sweetest shepherd's reed ?

IV.

There's not a fingle fwain

Of all this fruitful plain,

But with hopes and fears

Now bufily prepares
The bonny boon to gain.

V.

Shall another maiden fhine

In brighter array than thine?
Up, up, dull fwain,

Tune thy pipe once again,
And make the garland mine.

VI. Alas!

O the brook and the willow that heard him complain,

T°

Ah willow, willow.

Poor Colin fat weeping, and told them his pain;

Ah willow, willow; ah willow, willow.

II.

Sweet stream, he cry'd fadly, I'll teach thee to flow.

Ah willow, &c.

And the waters fhall rife to the brink with my woe.

Ah willow, &c.

III.

All restless and painful poor Amoret lies,

Ah willow, &c.

And counts the fad moments of time as it flies.
Ah willow, &c. .

IV.

To the nymph my heart loves, ye soft slumbers repair;
Ah willow, &c.

Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make he

Dear brook, were thy chance near her pillow to creep,
Ah willow, &c.

Perhaps thy foft murmurs might lull her to fleep.

Ah willow, &c.

VI.

Let me be kept waking, my eyes never close,

Ah willow, &c.

So the fleep that I lose brings my fair-one repose,
Ah willow, &c.

VII.

But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed;

Ah willow, &c.

If the lofs of my dear-one, my love is decreed;

Ah willow, &c.

VIII.

If no more my fad heart by those eyes shall be chear'd;

Ah willow, &c.

If the voice of my warbler no more shall be heard;
Ah willow, &c.

IX.

Believe me, thou fair-one; thou dear-one, believe,
Ah willow, &c.

Few fighs to thy lofs, and few tears will I give.
Ah willow, &c.

X.

One fate to thy Colin and thee fhall be ty'd,
Ah willow, &c.

And foon lay thy fhepherd close by thy cold fide.
Ah willow, &c.

XI.

Then run, gentle brook; and to lose thyfelf, hafte
Ah willow, willow.

Fade thou too, my willow, this verse is my last;
Ah willow, willow; ah willow, willow.

TO THE SAME, SINGING,

WH

I.

HAT charms in melody are found
To foften every pain!

How do we catch the healing found,

And feel the foothing strain!

II.

Still when I hear thee, O my fair,

I bid my heart rejoice;
I shake off every fullen care,
For forrow flies thy voice.

III.

The feafons Philomel obey,
Whene'er they hear her fing;

She bids the winter fly away,
And the recalls the spring.

SONG,

THE FAIR INCONSTANT.

H E.

INCE I have long lov'd you in vain,

SINCE

And doted on every feature;

Give me at length but leave to complain

Of fo ungrateful a creature.

Though I beheld in your wandering eyes
The wanton symptoms of ranging;

Still I refolv'd against being wise,

And lov'd you in fpite of your changing.

SHE.

Why should you blame what heaven has made,

Or find any fault in creation?

'Tis not the crime of the faithlefs maid,

'But nature's inclination.