On my WIFE's BIRTH-DAY.
BALLAD III.
I
'Tis
Nancy's birth-day—raise your strains,
Ye nymphs of the Parnassian plains,
And sing with more than usual glee
To Nancy, who was born for me.
II
Tell the blithe Graces as they bound?
Luxuriant in the buxom round;
They're not more elegantly free,
Than Nancy, who was born for me.
III
Tell royal Venus, tho' she rove,
The Queen of the immortal grove;
That she must share her golden fee
With Nancy, who was born for me.
IV
Tell Pallas, tho' th'Athenian school,
And ev'ry trite pedantic fool,
On her to place the palm agree,
'Tis Nancy's, who was born for me.
V
Tell spotless Dian, tho' she range,
The regent of the up-land grange,
In chastity she yields to thee,
O, Nancy, who wast born for me.
VI
Tell Cupid, Hymen, and tell Jove,
With all the pow'rs of life and love,
That I'd disdain to breathe or be,
If Nancy was not born for me.