 | Miscellanies In Prose And Verse |  |
370
A SONG.
[Phillis, the Glory of the Plain]
I
Phillis , the Glory of the Plain,(Whom you so long ador'd in vain)
In lucky Minute, let me nick her.
Last Night, the True Love's Knot was ty'd,
And she became my gentle Bride,
By Licence of the Parish Vicar.
II
I clasp'd her close, with eager Arms,And revell'd in her various Charms;
But what still added to the Bliss,
In Ecstasy, she softly swore,
She ne'er had felt such Joy before,
And paid her Forfeit, with a Kiss.
III
The Pleasure great, the Pride no less,To think that I alone possess;
Whilst others love, and envy too:
Yet, I must own this friendly Truth,
Of all our blooming, Sylvan Youth,
I pity, Thyrsis, only you.
371
IV
Dear Damon, I must thank you much,Since you declare your Friendship such,
As to raise kind Compassion:
But let me whisper in your Ear;
For me, you need no Danger fear,
Dying for Love, is out of Fashion.
V
Tho' Phillis left me in the Lurch,And silently stole off to Church;
Small Favours she has not denied;
In the Grove, that borders on the Plain,
In True Love's Knot we oft have lain,
Tho' never, quite, so firmly tied.
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