Tho' battle calls me from thy arms, Love turns afide the balls that round me fly, The boatswain gives the dreadful word, They kifs'd; fhe figh'd; he hung his head: Her lefs'ning boat unwilling rows to land; Adieu fhe cries, and waved her lily hand. GAY. D APHNIS stood penfive in the shade, With arms acrofs, and head reclin'd; Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid, And fighs reliev'd his love-fick mind: My CHLOE is unkind. Why Why ring the woods with warbling throats? My CHLOE's voice that wakes my pains: As thus he melancholy stood, Sweet founds broke gently through the wood. How foolish is the nymph, fhe cries, Our artful lips were made to feign. As t'other day my hand he seiz'd, And hafty from his hold withdrew. 'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd, My heart forebodes that I'm betray'd, Last night with DELIA's dog he play'd, The The youth stepp'd forth with hasty pace, GAY. D ESPAIRING befide a clear stream, A fhepherd forfaken was laid, And whilst a false nymph was his theme, A willow fupported his head; The wind that blew over the plain To his fighs with a figh did reply, And the brook in return to his pain Ran mournfully murmuring by. Alas! filly swain that I was! Thus fadly complaining he cried; I liften'd, and cry'd, when the fung, How foolish was I to believe She would doat on fo lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forfake the fine folks of the town; To think that a beauty fo gay, So kind and fo conftant would prove, Το go clad like our maidens in gray, And live in a cottage on love. What tho' I have skill to complain, Tho' the Mufes my temples have crown'd ? What tho' when they hear my foft strain, The virgins fit weeping around? Ah COLIN thy hopes are in vain, Thy fair one inclines to a swain And |