I. HE Squire of Dames his tale thus 'gan to tell; Sith you command my tongue, fir Satyrane, I now will all declare that me befell, The caufe of muchel fcath and dol'rous pain, 'Till I fhould full three hundred nymphs attain, Whose hearts fhould aye with Virtue's leffons glow, And to all swains but one cry out for ever, No. II. To find the fortilage that ne'er will yield And vows or bribes o'er women may prevail; Their hearts are made of flesh, and mortal flefh is frail. With heavy heart, and full of cark I go The fair we love expects to be obey'd, Although the bid us with the keftrel fly; So forth I prick, though much by doubt dismay'd, For fhe was wond'rous fair, and much in love was I. A grove I reach'd, where tuneful throftles fung, His twitting jefts around the cuckoo flung, How he with leaves his pious beak did fill, To shroud those pretty babes, whom Sib unkind would V. And many a fair Narciffus deck'd the plain, [kill. And am'rous Clytie ficken'd with defire; And ever to the breeze ycurl'd his hoary head. VI. Soon VI. Soon to the grove there came a lovely maid, In plain check-laton was the nymph array'd, Beauty, methinks, should meet with better cheer,' Good luck, I pray to heav'n, the face that's fair betide. VII. "Ah! woe is me, fhe cry'd, fince Colin's fled, "Whose gentle presence did these plains adorn, "Soon was he ravish'd from the nuptial bed, "Torn from these arms, from his dear leman torn! "O grief! far fharper than the pointed thorn, "I saw him ill-beftad by martial band. "Alas the day that ever I was born! "Where roves my Colin, on what foreign ftrand, Arraught from Laura's eyes, and his dear native land? VIII. "Alas! he only knew to prune the vine, "Or through the earth to urge the biting share, "To twist the bower with fragrant eglantine, "Where free from heat we fhun'd the noon-tide air, Or "Or to the mart to lead his fleecy care. "And is it fit in hacqueton and mail "The youth for war's grim terrors should prepare! "His voice outfung the love-lorn nightingale, "And deftly could he daunce, or pipe along the dale. IX.. "The gos-hawk fierce may pounce the trembling dove, "The favage wolf may tear the bounding fawn, "But fparrows mild are form'd for feats of love, "And kids dew not with blood the flow'ry lawn; "Then how fhall he, in whom all graces dawn, "In the red field the cruel paynim kill? "For scenes like these find men of hellish spawn. ""Tis his with joy the virgin's heart to fill, "And not on foreign fhore his foemen's blood to spill. X. "No days of blifs my forrows fhall aslake, "For him I'll ever drop the dol'rous tear. "Adieu the circled green, the buxom wake, "Since Colin's gone I taste of nought but drear. "Stretch me, ye maidens, ftretch me on the bier, "And let my grave-ftone these true words adorn: "A wretched maiden lies intombed here, "Who faw a fhepherd brighter than the morn, "Then pin'd her heart away, and dy'd of love forlorn.” XI. Much XI. Much was I grieved at her piteous plaint, I, nought accoy'd, came up unto the fair, But hunt around the world, and find my labours vain. My lips I'gan to royne in fell defpite, And forth I rushed from her false embrace, Through the thick wood I wander'd day and night, At |