One morning (I remember well)
Ty'd in this filver chain and bell,
Gave it to me: nay, and I know

What he said then; I'm fure I do.
Said he, look how your huntsman here
Hath taught a fawn to hunt his dear.
But Sylvio foon had me beguil'd:
This waxed tame, while he grew wild;
And quite regardless of my fmart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.

Thenceforth I fet myself to play

My folitary time away,
With this and very well content,
Could fo mine idle life have spent :
For it was full of sport; and light
Of foot, and heart; and did invite

25

30

Me to its game: it seem'd to bless 35 Itself in me. How could I lefs

Than love it? OI cannot be

Unkind t'a beaft that loveth me.

Had it liv'd long, I do not know Whether it too might have done fo 40 As Sylvio did; his gifts might be Perhaps as false, or more than he. But I am fure, for ought that I Could in fo fhort a time espy,

Thy love was far more better than 45

The love of falfe and cruel man.

With sweetest milk, and sugar, firft I it at mine own fingers nurst:

And as it grew, fo every day

It wax'd more white and sweet than they. It had fo fweet a breath! and oft 51 I blufht to fee its foot more foft

And white, fhall I say than my hand ?` Nay, any lady's of the land.

It is a wond'rous thing how fleet 55 'Twas on thofe little filver feet: With what a pretty skipping grace, It oft would challenge me the race And when 't had left me far away, 'Twould stay, and run again, and stay. For it was nimbler much than hinds; 61 And trod, as if on the four winds.

I have a garden of my own,

But fo with roses overgrown,

And lillies, that you would it guess 65 To be a little wilderness.

And all the spring-time of the year

It only loved to be there.

Among the beds of lillies I

Have fought it, oft, where it should lye :

Yet could not, till itself would rise,
Find it, although before mine eyes:

For, in the flaxen lillies fhade,
It like a bank of lillies laid.

71

Upon the roses it would feed,

Untill its lips ev'n feem'd to bleed:
And then to me 'twould boldly trip,
And print those roses on my lip.

But all its chief delight was still

On roses thus its felf to fill :

And its pure virgin limbs to fold
In whiteft sheets of lillies cold.
Had it liv'd long, it would have been
Lillies without, roses within.

75

80

O help! O help! I fee it faint: 85 And die as calmly as a faint. See now it weeps. The tears do come Sad, flowly dropping like a gumme. So weeps the wounded balfome: so The holy frankincense doth flow. The brotherless Heliades

Melt in fuch amber tears as these.

I in a golden vial will

Keep these two crystal tears; and fill
It 'till it do o'erflow with mine;
Then place it in Diana's fhrine.

Now my fweet fawn is vanish'd to
Whither the fwans and turtles go:

In fair Elyzium to endure,

901

95

With milk-white lambs, and ermins, pure..

O do not run too faft: for I

IOL

Will but bespeak thy grave, and die.

First my unhappy statue shall
Be cut in marble; and withal,
Let it be weeping too but there

Th' engraver fure his art may fpare;
For I fo truly thee bemoan,

105

That I fhall weep though I be ftone:
Untill my tears, ftill dropping, wear
My breaft, themselves engraving there.
There at my feet fhalt thou be laid, 111
Of pureft alabaster made:

For I would have thine image be
White as I can, though not as thee.

HORACE. LIB. IV. ODE 7.

BY SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, BART.*

THE fnows are melted all away,
The fields grow flow'ry, green, and gay,
The trees put on their tender leaves;

And all the streams, that went aftray,

The brook again into her bed receives.

5

See the whole earth has made a change:

The nymphs and graces naked range

About the fields, who shrunk before
Into their caves. The empty grange
Prepares its room for a new fummer's store.

Left thou shouldst hope immortal things,
The changing year inftruction brings,
The fleeting hour, that fteals away
The beggar's time, and life of kings,
But ne'er returns them, as it does the day.

The cold grows foft with western gales,
The Summer over Spring prevails,
But yields to Autumn's fruitful rain,
As this to Winter ftorms and hails ;
Each lofs the hafting moons repair again.

Born 1628; dyed 1698.

10

15

20