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Pastorals

After the Simple Manner of Theocritus. By Mr. Purney

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So here they came, as did befall,
To sing elong with Nightingale.
Here Violets ypicketh he,
To deck the bosom of the Mey.
When lo! he hear's a murmuring tone;
May seem some Young Lass made her moan.
Never will I, full well ywis,
Give pain agen! I've paid for this.
Oh, if he leaven love, ah god!
How shall I name a thing so bad?
Oh, if he leave to love farewell,
Farewell for ever, ought but Ill!