But, ah! the fad and fatal day, My love, the pride of fwains, was drown'd. Now droops the willow o'er the stream, Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove, Dire Fancy paints him in my dream, Awake I mourn my hopeless love. Flowers of Edinburgh. Y love was once a bonny lad, MY He was the flower of all his kin. The abfence of his bonny face Has rent my tender heart in twain. I day nor night find no delight, In filent tears I still complain; And exclaim 'gainst those my rival foes, Despair and anguish fills my breast, Since I have loft my blooming rofe; I figh and moan while others rest, Thro' every grove and distant plain; There's naething strange in Nature's change, They caus'd my love from me to range, The pretty kids and tender lambs May cease to sport upon the plain; Kind NEPTUNE, let me thee entreat, All joy and mirth at our return Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay; The bells fhall ring and sweet birds fing, To grace and crown our nuptial day. Thus blefs'd wi' charms in my love's arms, My heart once more I will regain ; Then I'll range no more to a distant shore, But in love will enjoy my darling swain. Fourteenth of October. YE gods! was STREPHON's picture bleft Υ With the fair heaven of CHLOE'S breast? Move fofter, thou fond flutt'ring heart, And thou, bleft fhade, that fweetly art I cannot blame thee; were I lord An alms to keep a god alive. 'Tis true, thy charms, O pow'rful maid, Fairest of her Days. HOE'ER beholds my HELEN's face, WH And fays not that good hap has she; Who hears her speak, and tents her grace, Who knows her wit, and not admires, Her red is like unto the rose Whase buds are op'ning to the fun, And with the red is mixt the white, That does upon clear waters light, GILDEROY. H! CHLORIS, could I now but sit AH As unconcern'd as when Your infant-beauty could beget When I this dawning did admire, Your charms in harmless childhood lay, As metals in a mine. Age from no face takes more away, Than youth conceal'd in thine. But as your charms infenfibly My paffion with your beauty grew, Threw a new-flaming dart. A Gallowfhiels. H the shepherd's mournful fate! When doom'd to love, and doom'd to languish, To bear the scornful fair one's hate, Nor dare disclose his anguish! Yet eager looks, and dying sighs, My fecret foul discover, While rapture trembling through mine eyes, Reveals how much I love her: |