Cupid will enforce your duty,

Shepherds, and would have you taught,
Those who timid fly from BEAUTY,
May by MELODY be caught.

D E L I A:

A PASTORA L.

ΤΗ

I.

HE gentle fwan with graceful pride
Her gloffy plumage laves,

And failing down the filver tide,
Divides the whifp'ring waves:

The filver tide, that wand'ring flows,
Sweet to the bird muft be!

But not fo fweet-blyth Cupid knows,
As DELIA is to me.

II.

A parent bird, in plaintive mood,
On yonder fruit-tree fung,

And still the pendent neft fhe view'd,

That held her callow young:

Dear

Dear to the mother's flutt'ring heart

The genial brood must be ;

But not fo dear (the thoufandth part!)
AS DELIA is to me.

III.

The roses that my brow furround

Were natives of the dale;

Scarce pluck'd, and in a garland bound,
Before their sweets grew pale!

My vital bloom would thus be froze,
If luckless torn from thee;

For what the root is to the rose,

My DELIA is to me.

IV.

Two doves I found, like new-fall'n fnow,

So white the beauteous pair!

The birds to DELIA I'll beftow,
They're like her bofom fair!

When, in their chafte connubial love,

My fecret with she'll fee;
Such mutual blifs as turtles prove,

May DELIA fhare with me.

T'Other day as I fat in the Sycamore shade,

Τ

Young Damon came whistling along,

I trembled-I blush'd-a poor innocent maid!
And my heart caper'd up to my tongue:

Silly heart, I cry'd, fie! What a flutter is here!
Young Damon defigns you no ill;

The fhepherd's fo civil, you've nothing to fear,
Then prythee, fond urchin, lie ftill.

II.

Sly Damon drew near, and knelt down at my feet,
One kiss he demanded-No more!

But urg'd the foft pressure with ardour so sweet,
I could not begrudge him a score:

My lambkins I've kifs'd, and no change ever found,
Many times as we play'd on the hill;

But Damon's dear lips made my heart gallop round, Nor would the fond urchin lie ftill.

When

III.

When the fun blazes fierce, to the Sycamore shade

For fhelter, I'm fure to repair;

And, virgins, in faith I'm no longer afraid,
Altho' the dear fhepherd be there:

At ev'ry fond kiss that with freedom he takes,
My heart may rebound if it will;

There's fomething so sweet in the bustle it makes,
I'll die ere I bid it lie ftill.

I twisted young roses in wreaths for my hair;
But ah! the fad willow's a shade for my brows,
For Phillis no longer remembers her vows!

To the groves with young Colin the shepherdess flies,
While Damon difturbs the ftill plains with his fighs.

PHILL I S.

Bethink you, falfe Damon, before you upbraid, When Phoebe's fair lambkin had yesterday ftray'd, Thro' the woodlands you wander'd, poor Phillis forgot! And drove the gay rambler quite home to her cot; A fwain fo deceitful no damfel can prize;

'Tis Phabe, not Phillis, lays claim to your fighs.

DAMON.

Like fummer's full feafon young Phœbe is kind, Her manners are graceful, untainted her mind! The sweets of contentment her cottage adorn, She's fair as the rofe-bud, and fresh as the morn! She fmiles like Pomona-These smiles I'd refign, If Phillis were faithful, and deign'd to be mine.

PHILLIS.

On the tabor young Colin fo prettily plays, He fings me fweet fonnets, and writes in my praife! He chose me his true-love laft Valentine-day,

When birds fat like bridegrooms all pair'd on the spray; Yet I'd drive the gay fhepherd far, far from my mind, If Damon, the rover, were constant and kind.

DAMON.

Fine folks, my fweet Phillis, may revel and range, But fleeting's the pleafure that's founded on change! In the villager's cottage fuch conftancy fprings, That peasants with pity may look down on kings. To the church then let's haften, our transports to bind, And Damon will always prove faithful and kind.