II.

Not a pine in my grove is there seen,

But with tendrils of woodbine is bound:

Not a beech's more beautiful green,

But a fweet-briar twines it around.
Not my fields, in the prime of the year,
More charms than my cattle unfold:
Not a brook that is limpid and clear,
But it glitters with fishes of gold.
III.

One would think she might like to retire
To the bow'r I have labour'd to rear;

Not a fhrub that I heard her admire,
But I hafted and planted it there.
O how fudden the jeffamin ftrove
With the lilac to render it gay!

Already it calls for my love,

From the plains, from the woodlands and groves,

What strains of wild melody flow?

How the nightingales warble their loves
From thickets of roses that blow !

And when her bright form fhall appear,
Each bird fhall harmoniously join

In a concert fo foft and fo clear,

As fhe may not be fond to refign.

V.

I have found out a gift for my fair;

I have found where the wood-pigeons breed: But let me that plunder forbear,

She will fay 'twas a barbarous deed.

For he ne'er could be true, fhe aver'd,
Who could rob a poor bird of its young:

And I lov'd her the more, when I heard
Such tendernefs fall from her tongue.
VI.

I have heard her with sweetness unfold

How that pity was due to a dove: That it ever attended the bold,

And fhe call'd it the fifter of love. But her words fuch a pleasure convey, So much I her accents adore,

Let her speak, and whatever fhe fay,

Methinks I fhould love her the more.

VII. Can

VII.

Can a bofom fo gentle remain.

Unmov'd, when her Corydon fighs?
Will a nymph that is fond of the plain,
These plains, and this valley despise?
Dear regions of filence and fhade!

Soft fcenes of contentment and ease!
Where I could have pleasingly stray'd,
If aught, in her abfence, could please.
VIII.

But where does my Phyllida ftray?

And where are her grots and her bow'rs?
Are the groves and the valleys as gay,
And the shepherds as gentle as ours?

The groves may perhaps be as fair,
And the face of the valleys as fine;
The swains may in manners compare,
But their love is not equal to mine.
III. SOLICITUDE.

W

I.

HY will you my paffion reprove? Why term it a folly to grieve? Ere I fhew you the charms of my love,

She is fairer than you can believe.

With her mien she enamours the brave;
With her wit she engages the free;
With her modesty pleases the grave;

She is every way pleafing to me,

you

II.

that have been of her train,

Come and join in my amorous lays;

I could lay down my life for the swain
That will fing but a fong in her praife.
When he fings, may the nymphs of the town
Come trooping, and liften the while;

Nay on Him let not Phyllida frown;

But I cannot allow her to smile.

III.

For when Paridel tries in the dance

Any favour with Phyllis to find,
O how, with one trivial glance,
Might fhe ruin the peace of my mind!

In ringlets He dreffes his hair,

And his crook is be-ftudded around; And his pipe- oh may Phyllis beware

Of a magic there is in the found.

IV. 'Tis

IV.

'Tis His with mock paffion to glow;
'Tis His in smooth tales to unfold,
"How her face is as bright as the snow,
"And her bofom, be fure, is as cold;
"How the nightingales labour the strain,
"With the notes of his charmer to vie:
"How they vary their accents in vain,
Repine at her triumphs, and die."

66

V.

To the grove or the garden he strays,
And pillages every sweet;

Then, fuiting the wreath to his lays
He throws it at Phyllis's feet.

"O Phyllis, he whispers, more fair,

"More sweet than the jeffamin'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