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

In that soft Season of the Year,
When Nature smiles, and all is gay,
As Colin watch'd his fleecy Care,
And sung, and play'd, the Hours away,
The noble Sylvia chas'd the Hare,
And pass'd the Hillock where he lay.

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II

Thought ne'er had rack'd the Shepherd's Brain,
Love had not yet surpriz'd his Heart:
But soon as Sylvia scowr'd the Plain,
Her Beauties struck him like a Dart.
He wonder'd Charms shou'd cause such Pain,
And labour'd to conceal his Smart.

III

Alas! th' Idea, fix'd so deep
In Colin's Mind, would not remove;
He broke his Pipe, forgot his Sheep,
And languish'd in a neighbouring Grove;
Sometimes wou'd sigh, sometimes wou'd weep;
But did not know He was in Love.

IV

The social Swains around him came,
And, simpathizing, ask'd his Case.
One wou'd divert his Mind with Game,

244

Another his Distemper trace.
But none perceiv'd the hidden Flame,
Tho' bashful Love o'erspread his Face.

V

For twice two Weeks he knew no Rest;
He pin'd away with silent Grief;
But weak and wan, at last, confest,
And bid the Swains pursue the Thief.
The Nymph, he said, divinely drest,
That stole my Heart, can yield Relief.

VI

I seek not vainly to be lov'd
By one so fair, and great, as she:
But, since her Charms so fatal prov'd,
Oh! let her not too cruel be.
If, by poor Colin's Suff'rings mov'd,
She'd grant a Kiss, 'twou'd set me free.

245

VII

This said, He blush'd, and sunk with Shame,
To think the World should know his Care:
He fear'd the Swains wou'd mock his Flame,
And her Refusal breed Despair.
Ah! who such harmless Love could blame?
Wou'd Sylvia prove less mild, than fair?

VIII

Thro' all the Plains the News was spread,
The Swains and Nymphs lament his Fate;
'Twas told to Slyvia He was dead,—
What Pity did the News create?
Why came not Colin? Sylvia said—
Or, why heard I the News so late?

IX

Her Sorrows, soon to Colin brought,
With Hopes of Pity fix'd his Mind.
Sure, if she grieves, (He rightly thought)

246

She cannot, will not, prove unkind.
Then Sylvia's Bow'r, the Shepherd sought,
And had the Kiss, for which he pin'd.

X

Now cur'd, and grown himself again,
He sings and plays beside his Flocks,
With Sylvia's Name is fill'd the Plain,
With Sylvia's Name resound the Rocks.
No other Goddess aids his Strain,
No other Goddess He invokes.