Pastorals Viz. The Bashful Swain: And Beauty and Simplicity. By Mr. Purney |
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| I. | [Scene I.] |
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| III. |
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[Scene I.]
Soflin.
Ah pretty! What Flowr's this? A Dew-cup 'tis.
Oh me! how meny Hues it has!
This Streak's the Colour of my Colly's Hair!
This of his Neck! I'll kiss't how'ere.
Oh me! how meny Hues it has!
This Streak's the Colour of my Colly's Hair!
This of his Neck! I'll kiss't how'ere.
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Of the Swains there is Cubbin and Florey;
Cubbin can Kiss and can tell a kind Story;
And Florey is blith and wild as the Wind;
But oh, say's my Heart, there's Another behind!
Cubbin can Kiss and can tell a kind Story;
And Florey is blith and wild as the Wind;
But oh, say's my Heart, there's Another behind!
Take me, soft Grass! here soft I mean to set:
How meny Violets! O how sweet!
My face shall fall emong 'em; wicked Flow'r!
What wet me? Sure you've Honey store!
Now sooth this Braham is a pleasant Place!
As fine and fair as Lonon Lass!
How meny Violets! O how sweet!
My face shall fall emong 'em; wicked Flow'r!
What wet me? Sure you've Honey store!
Now sooth this Braham is a pleasant Place!
As fine and fair as Lonon Lass!
My Heart's on the Hills and the Heaths with the Wind,
Hei! Ho! simple Heart!
The start it has got of the Hart and the Hind,
Oh hapless, hapless Start!
Hei! Ho! simple Heart!
The start it has got of the Hart and the Hind,
Oh hapless, hapless Start!
O Spring! sweet Spring! welcome, thou gentlest Spring!
Welcom ye Birds, that soft gin Sing!
O May! thou fairest Month! all-welcome too!
You dainty make the Daisies grow!
Colly like's this Flow'r: By your leave, Sweet Flow'r!
You must drop in my Breast, all o're!
Welcom ye Birds, that soft gin Sing!
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You dainty make the Daisies grow!
Colly like's this Flow'r: By your leave, Sweet Flow'r!
You must drop in my Breast, all o're!
Colly's pretty as 'ere Lad was pretty;
Friskie as Fairie, Well-hearted and Witty.
For when he sate by me and call'd me his Sweet,
His dainty white Bosom I could'nt help hit!
Friskie as Fairie, Well-hearted and Witty.
For when he sate by me and call'd me his Sweet,
His dainty white Bosom I could'nt help hit!
How now? What can't you keep, ye flirting Flower,
Emong my Hair? I'll plait ye more.—
But soft me! Sure that's Paplet's tender Step!
Poor little Dear, it seems to weep!
Emong my Hair? I'll plait ye more.—
But soft me! Sure that's Paplet's tender Step!
Poor little Dear, it seems to weep!
SOFLIN. PAPLET.
Soflin.
Ah now, for pity! who has harm'd poor heart?
And are they could give Mey to smart?
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Ne pretty finger put in Eye!
Paplet.
What do'st? Think whom thou holdest to thy Breast!
May't not be One that spoils thy rest?
Soflin.
Hold thee a-whit, Sweet Dear! let wipen face!
Thy face, Sweet Dear, is wet alas!
Look at yon Lark; how't chirp's! thy Grief forgo!
This pretty face won't made for Woe!
Paplet.
Knew'st thou, O Soflin, knew'st thou all it's shame,
I fear thoud'st find some harsher Name.
Soflin.
What meanest, pretty Paplet? Prethee tell.
O I can't bear to see thee wail!
Come, set thee on these Violets so sweet;
A-neath this shady Maple set!
See that young-bird! how't fliggaring stands; how glad,
Before the Mother to be fed!
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With Footen! how they're happy now!
Paplet.
Yes pretty Fools, they're happy. Happy sure!
No Ill to know, no Harm to fear.
Feed gentle Creatures! now feed sweetly on!
Feed sweet when Paplet's Day is done!
Soflin.
What meanest Mey? Now by this beating breast,
I charge thee speak out thy Unrest!
Paplet.
Ah worse the while! thy gentle heart would break
To hear the whole that I can speak!
Soflin.
No, but I'll bear, a thousand Ills I'll bear!
If Ills can come from one so Dear.
Paplet.
A Lad I love; all earthly things ebove!
The loveliest Lad, Lass 'ere did love.
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As long, and lasting, may fly me.
For Oh! He is Another's! Her's, to who
A wrong, I'd rather dye, than do!
Soflin.
Ah luckless Lass! poor luckless, hapless Lass!
But love's he thee too, may ye guess?
Paplet.
That would I know, and then all undone.
And that thou't tell, if any One.
If be thou weenest, Lass, he loves me, then
Alone I may not ha' my pain.
If be thou weenest that, O then I may
Tell all that ever I can say!
Soflin.
Let hearen how he hath him, when with thee;
And as I ween, so will I say.
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Oh, but I shame, all for a Swain, I fear,
May skulk a-hind this Hedge and hear.
Isne here Braham-Green? And there so sweet
The Swains and Bonnibells do meet,
To dance, and play, and getten Florets fair,
To weave in Chaplets, or their Hair.
Soflin.
He! He! And fearest thou, thou gentle Heart!
Why who so gentle Heart should hurt?
Paplet.
But yet, if be thou rather art, my Dear,
We'll walk elong the Eden here.
Not far away there is the sweetest Seat!
There Eden and the Medway meet!
Ne can come any, save afore, ynigh;
And sure we any so may see.
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Upleaping light, elong the Medway's side
The silkie-footen Lasses hied.
There, sweet the Shade was; gentle there the Breeze;
Soft on the May-boughs sate the Bees.
The Lasses Air-wove Vestures flutter fair,
And sprinkle Sweets thro' ev'ry Breer.
The silkie-footen Lasses hied.
There, sweet the Shade was; gentle there the Breeze;
Soft on the May-boughs sate the Bees.
The Lasses Air-wove Vestures flutter fair,
And sprinkle Sweets thro' ev'ry Breer.
Anon the Sun gin's set, and stain the Sky,
And glister on the brook abie.
See yon fair Cloud! (the fairer Soflin cry'd)
As Pap a waving Brier spy'd.
See yon sweet Breer! (the Mey more sweetly said)
As Leaves, with gentle Air, off-fled.
And glister on the brook abie.
See yon fair Cloud! (the fairer Soflin cry'd)
As Pap a waving Brier spy'd.
See yon sweet Breer! (the Mey more sweetly said)
As Leaves, with gentle Air, off-fled.
Strait, runing came a little Kid abie;
The prettiest Kid! I wonder why?
Twould hide it's little head 'mong Paplet's Cloaths;
And gentle bite 'em as she goe's.
May seem it had been bred up by some Lass;
And now turn'd out, on Green to graze.
For long it follow'd her; Ne would away;
But oft 'twould run afore and play.
The prettiest Kid! I wonder why?
Twould hide it's little head 'mong Paplet's Cloaths;
And gentle bite 'em as she goe's.
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And now turn'd out, on Green to graze.
For long it follow'd her; Ne would away;
But oft 'twould run afore and play.
A little Wet there was; the Mey doth stand,
And stoop's to take her Vest in hand.
To lick it went the Kid; She start's away;
I-Fay, poor fool, it frighted Me!
And stoop's to take her Vest in hand.
To lick it went the Kid; She start's away;
I-Fay, poor fool, it frighted Me!
Thus, soft as Thrushe's tongue the Lasses trip:
Their airy Vests the Florets sweep.
And now they are, where sweet the Air they see
On both the Streams so pretty play.
At Pebbles reppeling and tedded Grass,
The Medway ran along apace.
The gentle Eden's waves, as breezes fan'd,
Dashing fast splash'd the slabb'ry land.
Their airy Vests the Florets sweep.
And now they are, where sweet the Air they see
On both the Streams so pretty play.
At Pebbles reppeling and tedded Grass,
The Medway ran along apace.
The gentle Eden's waves, as breezes fan'd,
Dashing fast splash'd the slabb'ry land.
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The easy-faring Fish sweet wandered
All in the Wet, and sweetly plai'd.
He! He! the tender-tongued Paplet, cry's;
To see the little Fish catch Flys.
So merry lookt they, whenso came in sight;
You'd said they were asham'd of light!
To see 'em fled the Mew and Diedapper,
And thought themselves so happy there!
Glist'ring in th' Sun, they skim the top all-fair;
Then scowr away ev'n flit as Air.
All in the Wet, and sweetly plai'd.
He! He! the tender-tongued Paplet, cry's;
To see the little Fish catch Flys.
So merry lookt they, whenso came in sight;
You'd said they were asham'd of light!
To see 'em fled the Mew and Diedapper,
And thought themselves so happy there!
Glist'ring in th' Sun, they skim the top all-fair;
Then scowr away ev'n flit as Air.
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