PHIL LIS:

A PASTORAL

BALL A D.

I.

Said, on the banks by the stream,
I've pip'd for the shepherds too long:
Oh grant me, ye Muses, a theme,
Where glory may brighten my fong!
But PAN* bade me stick to my ftrain,
Nor leffons too lofty rehearse;
Ambition befits not a swain,

And PHILLIS loves paftoral verse,

II.

The rofe, tho' a beautiful red,

Looks faded to PHILLIS's bloom;
And the breeze from the bean-flower bed
To her breath's but a feeble perfume:
The dew-drop fo limpid and gay,
That loofe on the violet lies,
Tho' brighten'd by PHOEBUS's ray,
Wants luftre, compar'd to her eyes.

The Author intends the character of PAN for the late Mr. SHENSTONE, who favoured him with a letter or two, advifing him to proceed in the Pastoral manner.

A lilly

III.

A lilly I pluck'd in full pride,

Its freshness with her's to compare;
And foolishly thought ('till I try'd)
The flow'ret was equally fair.
How, CORYDON, could you mistake?
Your fault be with forrow confeft,
You faid the white fwans on the lake
For foftness might rival her breast.

IV.

While thus I went on in her praife, My PHILLIS pafs'd sportive along: poets, I covet no bays,

Ye

She fmil'd,- -a reward for my fong! I find the God PAN's in the right,

No fame's like the fair ones' applause! And CUPID muft crown with delight The fhepherd that fings in his cause.

POMONA:

PO Mo NA:

A PASTORA L.

ON THE CYDER BILL BEING PASSED.

I.

ROM orchards of ample extent,
Pomona's compell'd to depart;
And thus, as in anguifh fhe went,
The Goddefs unburthen'd her heart:

II.

"To flourish where Liberty reigns,
"Was all my fond wishes requir'd;
"And here I agreed with the fwains
"To live 'till their freedom expir'd.

III.

. Of late you have number'd my trees,
"And threaten'd to limit my ftore:
« Alas—from such maxims as these,
"I fear that your freedom's no more.

66

IV.

. My flight will be fatal to May: "For how can her gardens be fine : The bloffoms are doom'd to decay, "(The bloffoms, I mean, that were mine.)

"Rich Autumn remembers me well:

My fruitage was fair to behold! My pears-how I ripen'd their fwell! "My pippins!-were pippins of gold!

VI.

"Let Ceres drudge on with her ploughs!
"She droops as fhe furrows the foil;
"A nectar I shake from my boughs,
"A nectar that foftens my toil.

VII.

"When Bacchus began to repine,
"With patience I bore his abuse;
"He faid that I plunder'd the vine,
"He faid that I pilfer'd his juice.

VIII.

"I know the proud drunkard denies

"That trees of my culture fhould grow: "But let not the traitor advise;

"He comes from the climes of your foe.

IX.

"Alas! in your filence I read

"The fentence I'm doom'd to deplore: ""Tis plain the great PAN has decreed,

The Goddefs flew off in defpair;

As all her fweet honours declin'd: And PLENTY and PLEASURE declare, They'll loiter no longer behind.

MAY.

MA YE V E:

R,

KATE OF A BERDEEN.

T

I.

'HE filver moon's enamour'd beam, Steals foftly through the night, To wanton with the winding stream, And kifs reflected light.

To beds of ftate go balmy fleep,

('Tis where you've feldom been) May's vigil while the shepherds keep With KATE of Aberdeen.

II.

Upon the green the virgins wait,
In rofy chaplets gay,

'Till morn unbar her golden gate,
And give the promis'd May.
Methinks I hear the maids declare,
The promis'd May, when seen,
Not half fo fragrant, half so fair,
AS KATE of Aberdeen.