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She breaks the guiltless pipe, and with disdain 175 She made Latona's altars cease to flame,
Its Matter'd ruins flings upon the plain ;

And of due honours robb'd her facred name;
With the loud reed no more her cheek shall swell, To her own charms the bade fresh incense rise,
What! spoil her face! No. Warbling strains, fare - And adoration own her brighter eyes.
wel.

Seven daughters from her fruitful loins were born, Shall arts, shall sciences, employ the fair ? Seven gaceful fons her nuptial bed adorn, Those trifles are beneath Minerva's care, 180 Who, for a mother's arrogant disdain, From Venus let her learn the married life,

Were by Latona's double offspring Nain. And all the virtuous duties of a wife.

Here Phæbus his unerring arrow drew, Here on a couch extend the Cyprian dame, And from his rifing iteed her first-born threw; 40 Let her eye sparkle with the glowing flame His opening fingers drop the Nacken'd rein, The God of War within her clinging arms 185 And the pale corpse falls headlong to the plain. Sinks on her lips, and kindles all her charms. Beneath her pencil here two wrestlers bend, Paint limping Vulcan with a husband's care, See, to the grasp their swelling nerves diftend; And let his brow the cuckold's honours wear; Diana's arrow joins them face to face,

45 Beneath the net the captive lovers place,

And death unites them in a strict embrace. Their limbs entangled in a close embrace. 190 Another here flies trembling o'er the plain Let these amours adorn the new machine, (When Heaven pursues, we thun the stroke in And female nature on the piece be seen;

vain);
So shall the fair, as long as Fans Thall last, This lifts his fupplicating hands and eyes,
Learn from your bright cxamples to be chaste. And 'midst his humble adoration dies

56
As from his thigh this tears the barbed dart,
A surer weapen strikes his throbbing heart:
While that to raise his wounded brother tries,
Death blasts his bloom, and locks his frozen eyes:
The tender Afters, bath'd in grief appear, 55
With fable garments and dithevel'd hair,

And o'er their gasping brothers weeping food;
Τ Η Ε Γ Α Ν.

Some with their tresses stopt the guthing blood;

They strive to stay the fleetiug life too late,
BOOK III.
And in the pious action share their fate.

6.

Now the proud dame, o'ercome by trembling fear, 'HUS Momus spoke. When fage Minerva With her wide robe protects her only care;

To save her only care in vain he tries, From her sweet lips smooth elocution flows;

Close at her feet the latest victim dies. Her skilful hand an ivory pallet grae'd,

Down her fair cheek the trickling sorrow flows, 65 Where Thining colours were in order plac'a.

Like dewy spangles on the blusing rose; As Gods are bless'd with a superior skill,

Fix'd in aitonishment the weeping food,

5 And, swift as mortal thought, perform their will;

The plain all purple with her children's blood;

Sne stiffens with her woes: no more her hair
Straight The proposes, by her art divine,
To bid the paint express her great defign.

In easy ringlets wantons in the air ;

79 Th' assembled powers consent She now began

Motion for fakes her eyes : her veios are dry'd,

And beat no longer with the fanguine tide ; And her creating pencil stain'd the Fan.

All life is fed ; firm marble now she grows, O'er the fair field trees spread, and rivers flow, Towers rear their heads, and distant mountains Which still in tears the mother's anguish Mows.

Ye haughty fair, your painted fans display, 75 grow; Life seems to move within the glowing veins,

And the just fate of lofty pride survey. And in each face some lively paflion reigns.

Though lovers oft extol your beauty's power, Thus have I seen woods, hills, and dales appear, 15 Thougt from your features Cupid borrows arms,

And in celestial fimilies adore; Flocks graze the plains, birds wing the silent air,

And goddesses confess inferior charms ;

80 In darken'd rooms, where light can only pass Through the small circle of a convex glass;

Do not, vain maid, the flattering tale believe,

Alike thy lovers and thy glass deceive.
On the white Meet the moving figures rise,
The forest waves, clouds float along the kies. Here lively colours Procris' pallion tell,
She various fables on the piece design'd,

Who to her jealous fears a victim fell.
That spoke the follies of the female kind,

Here kneels the trembling hunter o'er his wife,

Who rol's her fickening eyes, and gasps for life ; The fate of pride in Niobe she drew (Be wise, ye nymphs, that scornful vice subdue). Her drooping head upon her shoulder lies, In a wide plain th’ imperious mother stood, 25

And purple gore her snowy bofom dyes.

What guilt, what horror, on his face appears! Whose disant bounds rofe in a winding wood;

See, liis red eye-lid seems to swell with tears; 96 Upon her shoulder flows lier mantling hair, Pride marks her brow, and elevates her air;

With agony his wringing hands he strains, A purple robe behind her sweeps the ground,

And strong convulsions stretch his branching veins. Whore spacious border golden Aowers surround; 30

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Learn hence, ye wives ! bid vain suspicion cease, The Fan shall flutter in all female hands, Lole not, in fullen discontent, your peace :

And various fashions learn from various lands. Por, when fierce love to jealouly ferrients, 95 For this ihall elephants their ivory shed;

155. A thousand doubts and fears the soul invents; And polish'd sticks the waving engine spread : No more the days in pleasing converse flow, His clouded mail the cortoise Thall resign, And nights no more their soft endearments know. And round the rivet pearly circles shine.

There on the piece the Volscian queen expir'd, On this fhall Indians all their art employ, The love of spoils her female bufom fir’d. 100 And with bright colours Itain the gaudy toy; 160 Gay Chioreus' arms attract her longing eyes, Their paint shall here in wildest fancies flow, And for the painted plume and helm fhe sighs ; Their dress, their customs, their religion, show : Fearless she follows, bent on gaudy prey,

So shall the British fair their minds improve, Till an ill-fated dart obstructs her way;

And on the Fan to distant climates rove. Down drops the martial maid ; the bloody Here China's ladies shall their pride display, 165 ground

105 | And silver figures gild their loose array; Floats with a torrent from the purple wound ; This boasts her little feet and winking eyes; The mournful nymphs her drooping head luftain, That tunes the fife, or tinkling cymbal plies : Ard try to stop the gushing life in vain.

Here cross-legg'd nobles in rich state shall dine ; Thus the raw maid fomic tawdry coat survuys, There in bright nrail distorted heroes shine. 170 Where the fop's fancy in enibroiaery plays; 110 The peeping Fan in modern times shall rise, His snowy feather, edg'd with crimson dyes, Through which unseen the female ogle flies; And his bright sword-knot, lure her wandering eyes This thallin teniples the sly maid conceal, Fring'd gloves and gold brocade conspire to move, And shelter love beneath devotion's veil. Till the symph falls a sacrifice to love.

Gay France shall make the Fan her artist's care, 175 Here young Narcissus o'er the fountain ftood, 115 And with the costly trinket arm the fair, And view'd his image in the crystal flood; As learned orators, that touch the heart, The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms, With various action raise their foothing art, And the pleas'd image {trives to nieet his arms. Both head and hand affect the listening throng, No nymph his unexperienc'd breatt subdved, And humour each expression of the tongue ;

180 Echo in vain the flying boy pursued,

120 So Thall each passion by the Fan be seen, Himself alone the foolish youth adquires,

From noisy anger to the fullen fpleen. And with fond look the smiling ihade desires ; While Venus spoke, joy shone in Strephon's eyes; O'er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves, Proud of the gift, he to Corinna flies : His spreading fingers ihoot in verdant leaves, But Cupid (who delights in amorous ill,

185 Through his pale veins green fap now gently Wounds hearts, and leaves them to a woman's will) flows,

125 | With certain aim a golden arrow drew, And in a short-liv'd flower his beauty blows. Which to Leander's panting bosom flew.

Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast, Leander lov’d, and to the sprightly dame That beauty's hut a transient good at best.

In gentle ligh’s reveal'd his growing flame : 190 Like flowers it withers with th' advancing year; Sweet smiles Corinna to his fighs returns, And age, like winter, robs the blooming fair. 130 And for the fup in equal passion burns. Oh, Araminta ! cease thy wonted pride,

Lo, Strephon comes! and, with a suppliant Nor longer in thy faithless charms confide ;

how, Ev’n while the glass reflects thy sparkling eyes, Offers the present, and renews his vow. Their luttre and thy rofy colour flies !

When the the fate of Niobe beheld,

195 Thus on the Fan the breathing figures fine, 135 Why has my pr:Je againfi my heart rebellid? And all the powers applaud the wife design. She sighing cry'd. Dildnin forsook her brealt,

The Cyprian queen the painted gist receives, And Str-phon now was thought a worthy guest. And with a grateful how the synod leaves.

In Procris' bosom when he saw the dart, To the low world she bends her steepy way, She justly blames her own suspicious heart; 200 Where Strephon pass'd the solitary day. 140 Inputes her discontent to jealous fear, She found him in a melancholy grove,

And knows hcr Strephon's constancy fincere. His down-cast eyes betray'd desponding love; When on Camilla's fate her eye she turns, The wounded bark confeks'd his slighted flame, No more for show and equipage she burns : And every tree bore false Corinna’s name : She learns Leander's pastion to despise, 205 in a cool shade he lay with folded arms, 145 And books on merit with discerning eyes. Curses his fortune, and upbraids her charms;

Narcissus' change to the vain virgin shows, When Venus to his wondering eyes appears,

Who trusts to beauty, truls the fading rofe. And with these words relieves his amorous cares : Youth flies apace, with youth your beauty flies;

Rise ! happy youth ; this bright machine furvey, Love then, ye virgins, ere the wioffiom dies.
Whose rattling sticks my busy fingers (way; 150 Thus Pallas taught her. Strephon weds the danie;
This present shall thy cruel charmer muve, And Hymen's torch diffus'd the brightest Aame.
And in her fickle boforr, kindle love.

Vol. VII.

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And Anglesea, whose speech exceeds
SHEPHERD'S WEEK,

The voice of pipe, or oaten reeds ;

And blooming Hyde, with eyes fo rare;
SIX, PASTORALS. 1714.

And Montague beyond compare :
WITH

Such ladies fair would I depaint,
THE AUTHOR'S NOTES.

In roundelay or sonnet quaint.
"_Libeat mihi sordida rura,

There many a worthy wight I've seen,
“ Atque humiles habitare casas.-" Virg.

Ta ribbon blue and ribbon green :
PROLOGUE

As Oxford, who à wand doth bear,

Like Moses, in our bibles fair;
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE TA

Who for our traffick forms designs,
LORD VISCOUNT BOLING BROKE.

And gives to Britain Indian mincs.

Now, fhepherds, clip your fleecy care; Sung Bumkinet and Bowzybce,

Ve maids, your spinning wheels prepare ; 70 And Blouzelind and Marian bright,

Ye weavers, all your shuttles throw, In apron blue or apron white,

And bid broad-cloths and serges grow; Now write my fonects in a book,

5 For trading free shali thrive again, For my good lord of Boling broke.

Nor leafings lewd affright the swain. As lads and Jasses food around

There saw 1 St. John, (weet of mien, 75 To hcar my boxen haucboy found,

Full stedfast both to church and queen; Our clerk came posting o'er the greca

With whose fair name I'll deck my strain ; With doleful tidings of the queen ;

10 St. John, right courteous to the swain. That queen, he said, to whom we owe

For thus he told me on a day, Sweet peace that maketb riches flow;

Trim are thy fonnets, gentle Gay;

80 That queen, who eas'd our tax of late,

And, certes, mirth it were to ice Was dead, alas -and lay in ftatc.

Thy joyous madrigals twice three, Ac chis, in tears was Cicely feen,

15 With preface meet, and notes profound, Buxoma tore her pinners clean,

Imprinted fair, and well y-bound. Ludoleful dumps stood cvery clown,

All suddenly then home I sped,

85 The parson rent his band and gown.

And did ev'n as my lord had said.
For me, when as I heard that death

Lo, here thou hast mine Eclogues fair,
Had snatch'd queen Anne to Elzabeth, 20 But let not these detain thine ear.
I broke my reed, and, fighing, swore,

Let not th' affairs of states and kings
I'd weep for Blouzelind no more.

Wait, while our Bowzybeus fings.
Whilc thus we stood as in a stound,

Rather than verse of simple swaia
And wet with tears, like dew, the ground, Should stay the trade of Prance or Spain ;
Full soon by bonofire and by bell

Or, for thc plaint of Parson's maid,
We learnt our Liege was passing well.

Yon' Emperor's packets be delay'd ; A skilful leach (so God him speed)

In footh, I swear by holy Paul,

99 They said had wrought this blessed deed.

I'd burn book, preface, notes and all.
This leach Arbuthnot was yelept,
Who many a night not once had slept ; 30

MONDA Y;
But watch'd our gracious Sovereign fill;

OR, For who could rest when she was ill ?

THE SQU A B B L E. Oh, may'lt thou henceforth sweetly seep! Sheer, swains, oh sheer your foftest sheep,

LOBBIN CLOUT, CUDDY, CLODDIPOLE. To swell his couch; for, well I ween,

35

LOBBIN Clour. He lav'd the realm, who fav'd the Queen.

'HY younglings, Cuddy, are but just awake, Quoth I, please God, I'll lige with glee To court, this Arbuthnot to fee.

No chirping lark the welkin sheen invokey, I sold my sheep a:d lambkins too,

No damsel yet the swelling udder strokes; For silver loops and garment blue ;

40 O'er yonder hill does Scant the dawn appear : S My boxen hautboy, sweet of sound,

Then why does Cuddy leave his cott fo rear? For lace that edg'd mine hat around;

CUDDY. For Lightfoot and my scrip, I got

Ah Lobbin Clou:! I ween, my plight is guet, A gorgeous sword, and cke a knot.

For be that loves, a franger is to refi So forth I far'd to court with speed,

45 Ver. 3. Welkin, the same as Welken, an old Sarca Of foldier's drum withouten dreed;

word signifying a cloud; by poetical licence it is free For peace allays the shepherd's fcar

quently taken for the element or fly, as may appear by Of wearing cap of grenadier.

this verse in the Dream of Chaucer, There faw i ladies all a-row,

“ Ne in all the welkin was no cloud." Before their Queen in seemly thow.

50

-Sbeen or joine, an old word for faining or bright. No more l'll fing Buxoma brown,

Ver. 5. Scant, used in the ancient British authori Like goldfinch in her Sunday gown ;

for foarce. Nor Clumllis nor Marian bright,

Ver. 6. Rear, an expression in several counties of Nor damtel thae Hobnelia hight.

England, for sarly in the morning. But Lansdowne, fresh as flower of May, 55 Ver. 7. To ween, derived fron the Saxon, to think And Birkeley, lady blithe and gayi,

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If swains belye not, thou hast prov'd the smart, Eftfoons, O fweetheart kind, my love repay,
And Blouzclinda's mistress of thy heart. 10 And all the year shall then be holiday.

70 This rising rear betokeneth well chy mind,

LOBBIN CLOUT. Those arms are folded for thy Blouzelind.

A8 Blouzelinda, in a gamesome mood, And well, I trow, our piteous plights agrec : Behind a haycock loudly laughing stood, Thee Blouzclinda (mites, Buxoma me.

1 Nily ran, and snatch'd a hafty kiss ; LOBBIN CLOUT.

She wip'd her lips, nor took it much amiss. Ah, Blonzelind! I love thee more by half, 15 Believe me, Cuddy, while I'm bold to say, 75 Than does their fawns, or cows the new-fallin calf : Her breath was sweeter than the ripen'd hay. Woe worth the tongue ! may blitters sore it gall,

CUDDI.
That names Buxonia Blouzelind withal,

As my Buxoma, in a morning fair,
CUDDY.

With gentle finger strok'd her milky care,
Hold, witless Lobbin Clout, I thee advise, I queintly stole a kiss ; at first, 'tis true,
Lest blisters fore on thy own tongue arise. 20 She frown'd, yet after granted one or two.

80 La, yonder, Cloddipole, the blithsome swain, Lobbin, I swear, believe who will my vows, The wiseft lout of all the neighbouring plain! Her breath by far excell'd the breathing cows. From Cloddipola we learnt to read the skies,

LOBLIN CLOUT. To know when hail will fall, or winds arife.

Lock to the Welch, to Dutchmen butter's dear, He taught us erit the heifer's tail to view, 25 Of Irish swains potatoe is the chear; When fuck aloft, that mowers would itraight en. Oats for their feasts the Scottish shepherds grind, 85

Sweet turnips are the food of Blouzelind. He first that useful fecrct did explain,

While the loves turnips, butter I'll despise, That pricking corns foretold the gathering rain. Nor lecks, nor oatmeal, nor potatoe, prize. When swallows fieet foar high and sport in air,

CUDDY he told us that the welkin wonld be clear,

30 In good roast beef my landlord ficks his knife, Let Cloddipole then hear us twain rehearse, The capon fat delights his dainty wife, १० And praiseshis tweetheart in alternate verse. Pudding our parfon eats, the squire loves hare, I'll wager this fame oaken staff with thee,

But white-pot thick is my Buxoma's fare. That Cloddipole fhall give the prize to me. While she loves white-pot, capon ne'er shall be, LOBBIN CLOUT.

Nor hare, nor beef, nor pudding, food for me. See this tobacco-pouch, that's lin’d with hair, 35

LOBBIN CLOUT. Made of the skin of deepest fallow.deer.

As once I play'd at blindman's buff, it hapt 95 This pouch that's ty'd with tape of reddest hue, About my eyes the towel thick was wșapt. that the prize shall be my

due.

I miss'd the (wains, and seiz'd on Blouzelind. CUDDY.

True speaks that ancierii proverb, "! Love is blind." Begin thy carols then, thou vaunting slouch!

Cuddy, Be thine the vaken itall, or mine the pouch.

40

As at hot-cockles once I laid me down,
LOEBIN CLOUT.

And felt the weighty hand of many a clown; FCR My Blouzelínda is the blitheft lafs,

Buxoma gave a gentle tap, and I
Than primrose sweeter, or the clover-grafs. Quick rose, and read soft mischief in her eye.
Fair is the king-cup that in meadow blows,

LOBBIN CLOUT.
Fair is the dailie that beside her grows;

On two near elms the flackeu'd cord I hung, Fair is the gilliflower, of gardens sweet, 45 Now high, now low, my Blouzelinda swung. Fair is the marygold, for pottage meet:

With the rude wind her rumpled garment rose, 105 But Blouzelind's than gilliflower more fair,

And show'd her taper leg, and scarlet hose.
Than daisie, marygold, or king-cup rare.

CUDDY.
CUDDY.

Across the fallen oak the plank I laid,
My brown Buxoma is the featest maid,

And myself pois’d against the tottering maid. That'e'er at wake delightsome gambol play'd. 50 Ver. 25. Erf, a contraction of ere this ; it ligaiClean as young lambkirs or the goose's dowo,

fics some time ago, or formerly. And like the goldfinch in her Sunday gown.

Ver. 56. Deft, an old word, fignifying brisk or The witlefs lamb may sport upon the plain,

nimble. The frikking kid delight the gaping swain,

Ver. 69. Eftfoons, from eft, an ancient British The wanton calf may skip with many a bound, 55 word, signifying foon. So that ififoons is a doubling And my cur Tray play defceft feats around; of the word foon ; which is, as it were, to say twice Put neither lamb, nor kid, nor calf, nor Tray, foon, or very soon. Dance like Buxoma on the first of May.

Ver. 79. Queint has various significations in the LOBBIN CLOUT.

ancient English authors. I have used it in this place Sweet is my toil when Blouzelind is near ; in the same fenre as Chaucer hato done in his Mil. Of her bereft, 'tis winter all the year.

60 ler's Tale, “ As Clerkes being' full subtle " and With her nu sulcry summer's heat know;

queine" (by which he means arch or wvaggiss); and
In winter, when she's nigh, with love l glow. not in that obscenc fenfu wherein he ulich it in the
Come, Blouzelinda, eafe thy swain's desire, line immediately following.
My summer's shadow, and my winter's fire !

Ver. 85.
Cuddy.

“ Populus Alcidæ gratiflima, Vitis laccho, As with Buxoma once I work'd at hay, 65 “ Formosæ Myrtus Vcneri, fua Laurea Præbo, Ev'n noon-tide labour feem'd an holiday ;

“ Phillis amat Curylos. illas dum Phillis amabit, And holidays, ii haply the were gone,

“Nec Myrtus vincet Corylos, nec Laurea Phabi." Like worky-days I wild would soon be done. &c.

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High leap'd the plank ; adown Busoma fell; Ah, Colin! canst thou leave thy sweetheart true?
I spy'd-but faithsul sweethearts never tell. 110 What I have done for thee, will Cicely do ?
LOBBIN' Clour.

Will she thy linen wash, or hosen darn,
This riddle, Cuddy, if thou canst, explain, And knit thee gloves made of her own spun yarn?
This wily riddle puzzles every swain.

Will fee with huswife's hand provide thy meat ? 35
“ What Gower is that which bears the virgin's name, | And every Sunday morn thy neckcloth plait,
6 The richest metal joined with the same ?" Which o'er thy kersey doublet spreading wide,
CUDDY.

In service-time drew Cicely's eyes aside ?
Answer, thou carie, and judge thisriddle right, 115 Where'er 1 gad, I cannot hide my care,
I'll frankly own thee for a cunning wight.

My new disasters in

my " What flower is that which royal honour craves, White as the curd my ruddy cheek is grown, + Adjoin the virgin, and 'tis ftrown on graves ?" So thin my features that I'm hardly known. CLODDIPOLE.

Our neighbours tell me oft', in joking talk, Forbear, contending louts, give o'er your strains ! Of afhes, leather. oatmeal, bran, and chalk; 'An paken staff each merits for his pains. 120 Unwittingly of Marian they divine,

45 But see the sun-beams bright to labour warn, And will not that with thoughtful love ! pinc. And gild the thatch of goodman Hodge's barn. Yet Colin Clout, untoward shepherd (wain, Your herds for want of water stand a dry,

Walks whistling blithe, while pitiful I plain. They're weary of your songs and so am 1.

Whilom with thee 'twas Marian's dear delight To meil all day, and merry make at night.

50 If in the soil you guide the crooked share, TUESDAY:

Your early breakfast is my constant care;
OR

And when with even hand you strow the grain,
THE DIT TY.

I frigbt the thievith rooks from off the plain.

In milling days, when I my thresher heard, 33 MARIAN,

With nappy beer I to the barn repair'd;
"OUNG Colin Clout, a lad of peerless meed,

Loft in the music of the whirling flail,
Full well could dance, and deftly tune the reed; in harvest when the fun was mounted high,

To gaze on thee I left the snioking pail :
In every wood his carols sweet were known,

My leathern bottle did thy draught supply;

60 At every wake his nimble feats were shown. When in the ring the rustic routs he threw,

Whene'er you mow'd, I follow'd with the rake,

5 The damsels' pleasures with his conquests grew;

And have full oft' been fun burnt for thy fake : Or when allant the cudgel threats his head,

When in the welkin gathering showers were seen,
His danger smites the breast of every maid,

I lagg'd the last with Colin on the green;
But'chief of Marian. Marian lov'd the fwain,

And when at eve returning with thy car,

65 The parson's maid, and neatest of the plain ; 1o | Awaiting heard the jingling bells from far, Marian, that soft could stroke the udder'd cow,

Straight on the fire the sooty pot I plac'd,
Dr lefsen with her sieve the harley-mow;

To warm thy broth I burnt my hands for haste.
Marbled with fage the hardening checse the press’d, When hungry thou stood'It faring, like an oaf,
And yellow butter Marian's skill confess’d;

I sie'd the luncheon from the barley-loaf ;
But Marian now, devoid of country cares, 15

With crumbled bread I thicken'd well thy mess.
Nor yellow butter, nor sage-cheese, prepares ;

Ah, love me more, or love thy pottage lets!
For yearning love the witless maid employs,

Last Friday's eve, when as the sun was fet,
And Love, say swaics, “ all busy heed deftruys."

1, near yon file, three fallow gyplies miet. Colin makes mock at all her piteous smart ;

Upon my hand they cast a poring look, 75 A lass that Cicely hight had won his heart,

Bid me beware, and thrice their heads they shook :
Cicely the western lass that tends the kee,

They said that many crosses I must prove;
The rival of the parson's maid was ne.

Some in my worldly gain, but most in love.
In dreiry shade now Marian lies along,

Next morn I miss'd three hens and our old cock,

80 And, mixt with fighs, thus wails in plaining fong : And off the hedge two pinners and a smock ; Ah woeful day ! ah woeful noon and morn !

I bore these lofies with a christian mind,

25
When first by thee my younglings white were shorn; And no mishaps could fcel, while thou wert kind.
Then first, I ween, I cait a lover's eye,

But since, alas ! I grew my Colin's scorn,
My sheep were filly, but more filly 1.

I've known no pleasure, night, or noon, or morn.
Bencath the ihears they felt no lalting smart,

Help me, ye gypfits ; bring him home again, 85 They lost but fleeces, while I lolt a heart,

30

And to a conttant lafs give back her swain

Have I not fat with thee full many a night,
Ver. 103-110 were not in the early editions. N. When dying enibers were our only light,
Ver. 113. Marygold.

When every creature did in slumbers lie,
Ver. 117. Rosemary.

Besides our cat, my Colin Clout, and !?
“ Dic quibus in terris infcripti nomina Regum No troublous thoughts the cat or Colin nove,
" Nafcantur Flores."

VIRG. While I alone am kept awake by love.
Ver. 120. “Et vitula tu dignus & hic." Virg. Pemember, Colin, when at last year's wake

I bougle mne coltiy preient for thy fake;
Ver. 21. Kez, a west-country word for kine or Couli'd thou livello'er the posy on thy huise, 93

And witi another change thy ltate of lite?

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