 | The Poems of Robert Fergusson |  |
56
The SIMILE.
At noontide as Colin and Sylvia lay
Within a cool jessamine bower,
A butterfly, wak'd by the heat of the day,
Was sipping the juice of each flower.
Within a cool jessamine bower,
A butterfly, wak'd by the heat of the day,
Was sipping the juice of each flower.
Near the shade of this covert a young shepherd boy,
The gaudy brisk flutterer spies,
Who held it as pastime to seek and destroy
Each beautiful insect that flies.
The gaudy brisk flutterer spies,
Who held it as pastime to seek and destroy
Each beautiful insect that flies.
From the lily he hunted this fly to the rose,
From the rose to the lily again,
Till weary with tracing its motions he chose
To leave the pursuit with disdain.
From the rose to the lily again,
Till weary with tracing its motions he chose
To leave the pursuit with disdain.
Then Colin to Sylvia smilingly said,
Amyntor has follow'd you long,
From him, like the butterfly still have you fled,
Though woo'd by his musical tongue.
Amyntor has follow'd you long,
From him, like the butterfly still have you fled,
Though woo'd by his musical tongue.
Beware in persisting to start from his arms,
But with his fond wishes comply;
Come, take my advice; or he's pall'd with your charms,
Like the youth and the beautiful fly.
But with his fond wishes comply;
Come, take my advice; or he's pall'd with your charms,
Like the youth and the beautiful fly.
Says Sylvia, Colin, thy simile's just,
But still to Amyntor I'm coy;
For I vow she's a simpleton blind that would trust
A swain, when he courts to destroy.
But still to Amyntor I'm coy;
For I vow she's a simpleton blind that would trust
A swain, when he courts to destroy.
| The Poems of Robert Fergusson | |