Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

'Twas at the cool and fragrant Hour,
When Ev'ning steals upon the Sky,
That Lucy sought a Wood-bine-Grove,
And Colin taught the Grove to sigh;
The sweetest Damsel She, on all the Plains;
The softest Lover He, of all the Swains.

II

He took her by the Lilly-Hand,
Which oft had made the Milk look pale;
Her Cheeks with modest Roses glow'd,
As thus He breath'd his tender Tale:
The list'ning Streams awhile forgot to flow,
The Doves to murmur, and the Breeze to blow.

106

III

“O smile my Love! thy dimply Smiles
Shall lengthen on the setting Ray:
Thus let us melt the Hours in Bliss,
Thus sweetly languish Life away:
Thus sigh our Souls into each other's Breast,
As true as Turtles, and as Turtles blest!

IV

So may thy Cows for ever Crown
With Floods of Milk thy brimming Pail;
So may thy Cheese all Cheese surpass,
So may thy Butter never fail:
So may each Village round this Truth declare,
That Lucy is the fairest of the Fair.

V

Thy Lips with Streams of Honey flow,
And pouting swell with healing Dews;
More Sweets are blended in thy Breath,
Than all thy Father's Fields diffuse:
Tho' thousand Flow'rs adorn each blowing Field,
Thy lovely Cheeks more blooming Beauties yield.

107

VI

Too long my erring Eyes had rov'd
On City-Dames in Scarlet drest;
And scorn'd the charmfull Village-Maid,
With Innocence and Grogram blest:
Since Lucy's native Graces fill'd my Sight,
The painted City-Dames no more delight.

VII

The speaking Purple, when you blush,
Out-glows the Scarlet's deepest Die;
No Diamonds tremble on thy Hair,
But brighter sparkle in thy Eye.
Trust me, the smiling Apples of thy Eyes,
Are tempting as were Those in Paradise.

VIII

The tunefull Linnet's warbling Notes,
Are gratefull to the Shepherd-Swain;
To drooping Plants, and thirsty Fields
The silver Drops of kindly Rain;
To Blossoms, Dews, as Blossoms to the Bee;
And thou, my Lucy! only art to Me.

108

IX

But mark, my Love! yon Western-Clouds:
With liquid Gold they seem to burn:
The Ev'ning Star will soon appear,
And overflow his Silver Urn.
Soft Stillness now, and falling Dews invite
To taste the balmy Blessings of the Night.

X

Yet e're we part, one Boon I crave,
One tender Boon! nor this denye:
O promise that You still will love,
O promise this! or else I dye:
Death else my only Remedy must prove;
I'll cease to live, whene're you cease to love.”

XI

She sigh'd and blush'd a sweet Consent;
Joyous He thank'd Her on his Knee,
And warmly press'd her Virgin-Lip.—
Was ever Youth so blest as He!—
The Moon, to light the Lovers homeward, rose,
And Philomela lull'd Them to Repose.