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54
Poor Dear! It gives me pine with pain,
To see poor Dear so wond'rous wain.
Ah wo-a-way! Come gentle Maid,
In Paplet's Bosom loll thy Head!
Come, soft thy careful Case Child tell.
And can a Lover give such wail?
Lallet.
Oh, had I pained but my self,
Instead of him, poor harmless Elf!
Paplet.
See, Lass! that pretty Springlet fair!
Hark, how sweet chirp's the Grasshopper!
There set we, Sweet! There may'st thou tell,
On softest Flowers, thy tender Tale.
Lallet.
Ah what are Flowers or Spring to me:
Oh good! how fair my Lad would lay!
How loose we lean'd the livelong Day!
How wont I with his Bosom play!
Oh good! how fair my Lad would lay!
55
How wont I with his Bosom play!
Her dainty Cheek, with that same Word,
From off the Green she pertly rear'd.
But as gan think what she had done,
Poor Heart down flapped it agen.
From off the Green she pertly rear'd.
But as gan think what she had done,
Poor Heart down flapped it agen.
The dabling Dew fell all emong,
Her buding Breasts so fair and young;
Her buding Breasts, that bloomie grew,
Soft shrinked at the dabling Dew.
Her buding Breasts so fair and young;
Her buding Breasts, that bloomie grew,
Soft shrinked at the dabling Dew.
At lenth, howe're, the tender Twey
Won her to rise from off the Lea.
Quoth Cubbin, Prethee to my Cott,
Let's go; refresh thee there awhit.
Oh no, said she, I late did pain
The loveliest Lad, the sweetest Swain:
Not for the World! might he not now,
To know I'm there, be grieved too?
But thro' the Grove she trip'd it, and
The Shepherd lead her by the Hand.
Won her to rise from off the Lea.
Quoth Cubbin, Prethee to my Cott,
Let's go; refresh thee there awhit.
56
The loveliest Lad, the sweetest Swain:
Not for the World! might he not now,
To know I'm there, be grieved too?
But thro' the Grove she trip'd it, and
The Shepherd lead her by the Hand.
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