 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
To SYLVIA.
WHEN deck'd in pompous Majesty, the SunThe steepy Height of Heav'ns Ascent has won;
Too bright the Glory, and too fierce the Day,
The feeble Shepherd shuns the gorgeous Ray.
The same our Care, tho' different be our Fate:
He pipes secure beneath the Beeche's Height;
While I, alass! in vain retire from Love
To the cool Covert of the shady Grove.
In vain I fly! the Grove denies Relief
To the soft Torments of a Lover's Grief.
If with the new-born Light I chance to stray,
And through the Woodland shape my listless Way.
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Breathe of the Morn, and utter nought but you.
Your Voice inspires the feather'd Songster's Throat.
Sweet through the Grove resounds the various Note;
Yet sweeter break the Accents from thy Tongue,
Than the soft Warbling of the tuneful Throng.
All's full of you; the Plants, the Flow'rs, the Trees,
The gurgling Rill, and soft etherial Breeze.
Through Nature's Works I find but fresh Alarms,
And trace th'unfinished Sketches of those matchless Charms.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |