The Works of Hildebrand Jacob ... Containing Poems on Various Subjects, and Occasions; With the Fatal Constancy, a Tragedy; and Several Pieces in Prose. The Greatest Part Never Before Publish'd |
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The Turtles; |
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 | The Works of Hildebrand Jacob |  |
69
The Turtles;
a Fable.
Say, why, Companion, thus confind,
And to your Fortune so resign'd?
And to your Fortune so resign'd?
Venus, to whom I did belong,
Gave me to Damon for a Song,
Where, artless, in his humble Lays
Adonis he attempts to Praise.
Gave me to Damon for a Song,
Where, artless, in his humble Lays
Adonis he attempts to Praise.
In sport by Cloë, t'other day,
From Damon I was stole away:
From Damon I was stole away:
The Shepherd begs, and prays, and fain
Wou'd have her give me back again;
But Cloë I to him prefer,
And wish, to lead my Life with her;
For here I sport, and feed at Will,
And think, I dwell with Venus still,
Wou'd have her give me back again;
But Cloë I to him prefer,
And wish, to lead my Life with her;
For here I sport, and feed at Will,
And think, I dwell with Venus still,
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On her fair Hand I sit, and eat;
'Tis she her self prepares my Meat;
When I wou'd drink I mount, and sip
Pure Nectar from her fragrant Lip;
Then, overjoy'd, I spread my Wings,
Soon as she Talks, or Plays, and Sings,
But when she sleeps, I take my Rest
Upon her warm, and downey Breast.
'Tis she her self prepares my Meat;
When I wou'd drink I mount, and sip
Pure Nectar from her fragrant Lip;
Then, overjoy'd, I spread my Wings,
Soon as she Talks, or Plays, and Sings,
But when she sleeps, I take my Rest
Upon her warm, and downey Breast.
Wou'd you not give, for her Caress,
The savage Freedom you possess;
The musty Grains which Chance must yield
On Mountain Tops, or in the Field;
Amidst Alarms of Guns, and Kites,
Expos'd to Cold and stormy Nights?
The savage Freedom you possess;
The musty Grains which Chance must yield
On Mountain Tops, or in the Field;
Amidst Alarms of Guns, and Kites,
Expos'd to Cold and stormy Nights?
Adieu, Companion, I'll away;
It may not here be safe, to stay:
I own, you are a happy Dove,
While you your gilded Cage can love;
Yet give me still my musty Grains
On barren Hills, and fallow Plains,
With Danger, Cold, and storms of Wind;
But let my Flight be unconfin'd.
It may not here be safe, to stay:
I own, you are a happy Dove,
While you your gilded Cage can love;
71
On barren Hills, and fallow Plains,
With Danger, Cold, and storms of Wind;
But let my Flight be unconfin'd.
| The Works of Hildebrand Jacob | |