Witness ye winged daughters of the year, Till Cynthia came and robb'd my soul of rest. O have you seen, bath'd in the morning dew, It shrinks, and scarcely trusts the blaze of day. So soft, so delicate, so sweet she caine, Youth's damask glow just dawning on her cheek; I gaz'd, I sigh'd, I caught the tender flame, Felt the fond pang, and droop'd with passion, weak. Yet not unpitied was my pain the while ; For oft beside yon sweet-briar in the dale, With many a blush, with many a melting smile, She sat and listen'd to the plaintive tale. Ah me! I fondly dreamt of pleasures rare, Nor deem'd so sweet a face with scorn could glow; How could you cruel then pronounce despair, Chill the warm hope, and plant the thorn of woe. What though no treasures canker in my chest, Nor crowds of suppliant vassals hail me lord! What though my roof can boast no princely guest, No surfeits lurk beneath my frugal board! Yet should Content, that shuns the gilded bed,. Led by chaste Love, the decent band should come, O, charmer, woulds't thou deign my roof to share? Nor should the muses scorn our simple dome, Or knit in mystic dance the Graces fair.. The wood-land nymphs, and gentle fays, at eve And shield from mischief by their guardian spell. Come then, bright maid, and quit the city throng! Then, love, begone! thy thriftless empire yield, Or all in some lone moss-grown tow'r sublime, And heal with wisdom's balm my hapless wound. Or else, I'll roam-Ah no! that sigh profound SONG. ONANNY! wilt thou go with me, O Nanny! when thou'rt far away, Extremes of hardships learn to bear? T. P. O Nanny! canst thou love so true, Wilt thou assume the nurse's care? And when at last thy love shall die, And cheer with smiles the bed of death? A PARODY OF THE FOREGOING SONG. - ! wilt thou gang with me, Nor sigh to quit fair Southwell town? Can Norton wood have charms for thee, Carlton's rich fields, and fallows brown? No longer clogg'd with stubborn clay, No longer vex'd with pointers wild, Say, canst thou quit the parks and play, Where thou each female heart beguil❜d? ! when thou'rt far away, Wilt thou not cast a look behind? 0 -! canst thou walk so stout Through covers strong, and miry plains? Or, when thy friend shall miss a shot, Upbraid him with no taunting strains? Say, should his faithless flint miss fire, Wilt thou another lend awhile? Nor fretful let one wish transpire Of scenes where thou wilt still beguile? And when at last the sport is o'er, Nor then regret the parks and play, C. S. |