Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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The MORN.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
96
The MORN.
When Light begins the Eastern Heav'n to grace,
And the Nights Torches to the Sun give place,
Diana leaves her Shepherd to his Sleep,
Griev'd that her Horns cannot their Lustre keep.
And the Nights Torches to the Sun give place,
Diana leaves her Shepherd to his Sleep,
Griev'd that her Horns cannot their Lustre keep.
The Boughs on which the wanton Birds do throng,
Dance to the Musick of their Chirping Song,
Whilst they rejoyce the Duskey Clouds are fled,
And Bright Aurora rises from her Bed.
Dance to the Musick of their Chirping Song,
Whilst they rejoyce the Duskey Clouds are fled,
And Bright Aurora rises from her Bed.
Then Fools and Flatterers to Courts resort,
Lovers of Game, up and pursue their Sport,
With last Nights Sleep refresh'd, the Lab'ring Swain
Cheerfully settles to his Work again.
Lovers of Game, up and pursue their Sport,
With last Nights Sleep refresh'd, the Lab'ring Swain
Cheerfully settles to his Work again.
Pleas'd Hobb unfolds his Flocks, and whilst they feed,
Sits, and makes Musick on his Oaten Reed;
Then I wake too, and viewing Lesbia's Charms,
Do glut my self with Pleasure in her Arms.
Sits, and makes Musick on his Oaten Reed;
Then I wake too, and viewing Lesbia's Charms,
Do glut my self with Pleasure in her Arms.
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