 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
138
The ROBIN's Complaint to CLOE.
A Song.
“Within a wiry prison pent,
“Far from my constant Mate,
“O think—with pity think, dear Maid,
“How wretched is my fate:
“Of me depriv'd, perhaps ev'n now,
“For grief she yields her breath;
“And Oh!—I feel, depriv'd of her,
“I soon shall bow to Death.
“Far from my constant Mate,
“O think—with pity think, dear Maid,
“How wretched is my fate:
“Of me depriv'd, perhaps ev'n now,
“For grief she yields her breath;
“And Oh!—I feel, depriv'd of her,
“I soon shall bow to Death.
“If in a Nunn'ry's gloomy walls
“From Lovers' Joys debarr'd,
“Like me coop'd up—indeed you'd think
“Your fate was wond'rous hard;
“Then as you wish yourself to taste
“Love's Joys, and Liberty,
“Have Mercy on your little Bird,
“And kindly set me free.”—
“From Lovers' Joys debarr'd,
“Like me coop'd up—indeed you'd think
“Your fate was wond'rous hard;
“Then as you wish yourself to taste
“Love's Joys, and Liberty,
“Have Mercy on your little Bird,
“And kindly set me free.”—
Thus in a narrow Cage confin'd,
A Robin sweetly grieves;
Cloe relents, and to her Bird
Immediate Freedom gives:
The God of Love rewards the Fair,
He fires her fav'rite Swain;
He gives her all Love's Bliss to know,
Free from Love's bitter Pain.
A Robin sweetly grieves;
Cloe relents, and to her Bird
Immediate Freedom gives:
The God of Love rewards the Fair,
He fires her fav'rite Swain;
He gives her all Love's Bliss to know,
Free from Love's bitter Pain.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |