To yonder ignominious tree;
He fhall not want one conftant friend
To fhare the cruel fates' decree.
O then her mourning coach was call'd,
The fledge mov'd flowly on before;
Tho' borne in a triumphal car,
She had not lov'd her fav'rite more.
She follow'd him, prepar'd to view,
The terrible behefts of law;
And the last scene of JEMMY's woes,
With calm and stedfast eye she saw.
Distorted was that blooming face,
Which fhe had fondly lov'd fo long;
And stifled was that tuneful breath,
Which in her praise had fweetly fung:
And fever'd was that beauteous neck,
Round which her arms had fondly clos'd;
And mangled was that beauteous breast,
On which her lovefick head repos'd:
And ravish'd was that conftant heart,
She did to ev'ry heart prefer;
For tho' it could its king forget,
'Twas true and loyal still to her.
3
Amid those unrelenting flames,
She bore this conftant heart to fee; But when 'twas moulder'd into duft, Yet, yet, fhe cry'd, I follow thee.
My death, my death alone can shew
The pure, the lafting love I bore;
Accept, O heav'n! of woes like ours,
And let us, let us weep no more.
The difmal scene was o'er and past,
The lover's mournful hearfe retir'd;
The maid drew back her languid head,
And fighing forth his name, expir'd.
Tho' juftice ever must prevail,
The tear my KITTY sheds, is due;
For feldom shall she hear a tale
So fad, fo tender, yet fo true.
Paftoral BALLAD, in Four Parts.
Arbufta bumilefque myrica.
E fhepherds fo chearful and gay,
Whose flocks never carelessly roam;
Should CORYDON's happen to ftray,
Oh! call the poor wanderers home.
Allow me to muse and to figh,
Nor talk of the change that ye find;
None once was fo watchful as I:
-I have left my dear PHYLLIS behind.
Now I know what it is, to have strove
With the torture of doubt and defire;
What it is, to admire and to love,
And to leave her we love and admire.
Ah lead forth my flock in the morn,
And the damps of each ev'ning repel;
Alas! I am faint and forlorn :
-I have bade my dear PHYLLIS farewel.
Since PHYLLIS vouchfaf'd me a look,
I never once dreamt of my vine;
May I lose both my pipe and my crook,
If I knew of a kid that was mine.
I priz'd every hour that went by,
Beyond all that had pleas'd me before;
But now they are past, and I figh;
And I grieve that I priz'd them no more.
But why do I languish in vain ?
Why wander thus penfively here?
Oh! why did I come from the plain,
Where I fed on the fmiles of my dear?
They tell me, my favourite maid,
The pride of that valley, is flown;
Alas! where with her I have ftray'd,
I could wander with pleasure, alone.
When forc'd the fair nymph to forego,
What anguish I felt at my heart!
Yet I thought-but it might not be fo
"Twas with pain that she saw me depart.
She gaz'd, as I flowly withdrew;
My path I could hardly difcern;
So fweetly the bade me adieu,
I thought that the bade me return.
To vifit fome far-distant fhrine,
If he bear but a relique away,
Is happy, nor heard to repine.
Thus widely remov'd from the fair,
Where my vows, my devotion, I owe,
Soft hope is the relique I bear,
And my folace wherever I go.
Y banks they are furnish'd with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep; My grottos are fhaded with trees,
And my hills are white-over with sheep. I feldom have met with a lofs,
Such health do my fountains bestow; My fountains all border'd with moss, Where the hare-bells and violets grow.
Not a pine in my grove is there feen,
But with tendrils of woodbine is bound:
Not a beech's more beautiful green,
But a fweet-briar entwines 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.
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