'Tis His with mock paffion to glow; To the grove or the garden he ftrays, Then, fuiting the wreath to his lays "More fweet than the jessamin'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 despight, "And the wood-bines give up their perfume." Thus glide the foft numbers along, And he fancies no fhepherd his peer; Yet I never should envy the fong, 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, And take no more heed of my sheep: They have nothing to do, but to stray; I have nothing to do, but to weep, Yet do not my folly reprove; -and my paffion begun ; -and I could not but love; She was fair She is faithlefs She fmil'd -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 wisdom the while; And the lip of the nymph we admire III. She is faithlefs, and I am undone; What it cannot inftruct you to cure. Amid nymphs of an higher degree : How fair, and how fickle they be. Alas! from the day that we met, The glance that undid my repose. The flow'r, and the fhrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain, In time may have comfort for me. V. The fweets of a dew-fprinkled rofe, The found of a murmuring stream, The peace which from folitude flows, Henceforth fhall be Corydon's theme. High tranfports are fhewn to the fight, But we are not to find them our own; Fate never beftow'd fuch delight, As I with my Phyllis had known. VI. O VI. Oye woods, fpread your branches apace; To your deepest receffes I fly; I would hide with the beafts of the chace; I would vanish from every eye. Yet my reed fhall refound thro' the grove With the fame fad complaint it begun; How fhe fmil'd, and I could not but love; Was faithlefs, and I am undone ! |