One would think fhe might like to retire To prune the wild branches away. From the plains, from the woodlands and groves, From thickets of roses that blow! In a concert fo foft and so clear, As she may not be fond to refign. 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. I have [ 193 ] I have heard her with sweetness unfold How that pity was due to a dove: And the call'd it the fifter of love. Can a bofom fo gentle remain Unmov'd, when her CORYDON fighs! Soft fcenes 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, VOL. I. III. SOL III. SOLLICITUDE. W 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 fhe enamours the brave; With her wit she engages the free; With her modefty pleases the grave; She is ev'ry way pleasing to me. O you that have been of her train, For when PARIDEL tries in the dance 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. 'Tis Tis his in smooth tales to unfold, How her face is as bright as the snow, And her bofom, be fure, is as cold? w the nightingales labour the strain, With the notes of his charmer to vie; w they vary their accents in vain, Repine at her triumphs, and die.” the grove or the garden he ftrays, And pillages every sweet; en, fuiting the wreath to his lays men the lily no longer is white; Then the rofe is depriv'd of its bloom; And the wood-bines give up their perfume." Let his crook be with hyacinths bound, IV. DISAPPOINTMENT. E fhepherds give ear to my lay, YE And take no more heed of my fheep: She was fair-and my paffion begun; Perhaps I was void of all thought; It banishes wisdom the while; And the lip of the nymph we admire She |