III. One would think she might like to retire From the plains, from the woodlands and groves, How the nightingales warble their loves In a concert fo foft and fo clear, As -she 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 tenderness 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. Let her speak, and whatever she say, Can a bofom fo gentle remain Unmov'd, when her Corydon fighs! Soft scenes of contentment and ease! But where does my Phyllida ftray? And where are Her grots and her bow'rs? The groves may perhaps be as fair, III. SOL W III. SOLLICITUDE. I. HY will you my paffion reprove? She is fairer than you can believe. II. you that have been of her train, I could lay down my life for the fwain, But I cannot allow her to smile. III. For when Paridel tries in the dance 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; "Tis His in fmooth tales to unfold, ** How her face is as bright as the fnow, "And her bofom, be fure, is as cold? "How the nightingales labour the ftrain, With the notes of his charmer to vie ; "How they vary their accents in vain, "Repine at her triumphs, and die." V. To the grove or the garden he strays, O Phyllis, he whifpers, 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 rofe is depriv'd of its bloom; "Then the violets die with defpight, "And the wood-bines give up their perfume." Were not Phyllis to lend it an ear. VII. Let VII. 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, YR And take no more heed of my sheep: They have nothing to do, but to stray; She was fair-and my paffion begun ; and I could not but love; She is faithlefs -- -and I am undone. II. Perhaps I was void of all thought; Perhaps it was plain to foresee, That a nymph fo compleat would be fought It banishes wifdom the while; And the lip of the nymph we admire III. She |