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30

KITTY. A PASTORAL.

I

From beneath a cool shade, by the side of a stream,
Thus writes thy Theander, and thou art his theme:
Thy beauties inspiring, my dearest I'll shew,
There's nothing in nature so beauteous as you.

II

Tho' distance divides us, thy beauties I see,
Those beauties so lov'd and admir'd by me!
Now, now I behold thee, sweet-smiling and pretty,
O Gods! you've made nothing so fair as my Kitty!

III

Come, lovely Idea, come fill my fond arms,
And whilst I thus gaze, on thy numerous charms,
The beautiful objects which round me do lie,
Grow sick at thy presence with envy, and die.
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IV

Now Flora the meads and the groves does adorn,
With flowers and blossoms on every thorn;
But look on my Kitty!—There sweetly does blow,
A spring of more beauties than Flora can show.

V

See, see how that rose there adorns the gay bush,
And, proud of its colour, wou'd vie with her blush;
Vain boaster! thy beauties shall quickly decay,
She blushes—and see how it withers away.

VI

Observe that fair lilly, the pride of the vale,
In whiteness unrivall'd; now droops and looks pale;
It sickens, and changes its beautiful hue,
And bows down its head in submission to you.

VII

The Zephirs that fan me beneath the cool shade,
When panting with heat on the ground I am laid,
Are less grateful and sweet than the heavenly air
That breaths from her lips when she whispers—my dear.

VIII

O hear the gay lark as she mounts in the skies,
How sweet are her notes! how delightful her voice!
Go dwell in the air, little warbler, go;
I have musick enough while my Kitty's below.
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IX

With pleasure I watch the laborious bee,
Extracting her sweets from each flower and tree;
Ah fools! thus to labour to keep you alive,
Fly, fly to her lips, and at once fill your hive.

X

See there, on the top of that oak, how the doves,
Sit brooding each other, and cooing their loves:
Our loves are thus tender, thus mutual our joy,
When folded on each others bosoms we lie.

XI

It glads me to see how the pretty young lambs
Are fondled, and cherish'd, and lov'd by their dams:
The lambs are less pretty, my dearest, than thee;
Their dams are less fond, nor so loving as me.

XII

I view all the beauties the world now puts on,
Which all owe their birth to the warmth of the Sun:
The world is to me in my dear Kitty's arms,
And my love's the warm sun that must fill it with charms.

XIII

But leaving the fields and the groves, I retire
To visit the gardens, where art does conspire
With nature, to finish one beauteous Parterre:
But heav'n, in her face, has out-done them by far.
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XIV

Here various flowers still paint the gay scene,
And as some fade and die, others bud and look green;
The charms of my Kitty are constant as they;
Her virtues will bloom as her beauties decay.

XV

I sit on the ground, and reclining my head,
Repose amongst flowers, a sweet-smelling bed!
A sweet-smelling bed; yet ah! nothing so sweet,
As Kitty's dear bosom, my balmy retreat.

XVI

As I gaze on the river that smoothly glides by,
Thus even and sweet in her temper, I cry;
Thus clear is her mind, thus calm and serene,
And virtues,like gems, at the bottom are seen.

XVII

But in vain I compare her, here's nothing so bright,
And night now approaches, and hinders my sight:
To bed I must hasten, and there all her charms,
In softer ideas, I'll bring to my arms.
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