Yon' bulfinch, with unvary'd tone, For want of harmony and skill. Yet, discontent with nature's boon, Unrivall'd he shall mount the fkies. And while, to please some courtly fair, Go, hapless captive! still repeat The founds which nature never taught; Go, liftening fair! and call them fweet, Because you know them dearly bought. Unenvy'd both! go hear and fing SONG. betet tettete SON G. Written in Winter 1745. By the Same. 1. HE fun, his gladsome beams withdrawn, THE The hills all white with fnow, Leave me dejected and forlorn! Who can describe my woe? But not the fun's warm beams could cheer, To beautify the scene. II. The frozen brooks, and pathless vales, Disjoin my love and me! The pining bird his fate bewails On yonder leafless tree! But what to me are birds or brooks Or any joy that's near? Heavy the lute, and dull the books, While Damon is not here! III. The Laplander, who, half the year, in fhades of night, Is wrapt Mourns not, like me, his winter drear, Nor wishes more for light. But what were light, without my love, The flowery meadow, field, or grove, If Damon be not mine? IV. Each moment, from my dear away, Is a long age of pain; Fly swift, ye hours, be calm the day, O hafte and bring him to my arms; Nor let us ever part: My breast shall beat no more alarms, When I fecure his heart. Written Written to a near Neighbour in a tempestuous By the Same. I. OU bid my Mufe not ceafe to fing, YOU You bid my ink not cease to flow; Then say it ever shall be spring, And boisterous winds fhall never blow: II. But now, alone, by storms oppreft, No cheerful voice with witty jest, No jocund pipe to ftill the found; III. In vain I call th' harmonious Nine, In vain implore Apollo's aid; While spleen and care my rest invade, Say, fhall we Morpheus next implore, Wifely at least he'll stop my pen, And with his poppies crown my brow: To fleep unheard of- than to glow XXXXXXXXXXXXX Written at a Ferme Ornee near Birmingham; Auguft 7th, 1749. By the Same. IS Nature here bids pleasing scenes arife, Τ 'TIS And wifely gives them Cynthio, to revise: How well the bard obeys, each valley tells; ไฟ The |