Come then, my Lelius! come once more,
And fringe the melancholy shore
With roses and with bays,

While I each wayward Fate accuse,
That envy'd his impartial Muse,
To sing your early praise.

While Philo, to whose favour'd sight
Antiquity, with full delight,
Her inmost wealth displays,

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Beneath yon' ruin's moulder'd wall

Shall muse, and with his friend recall

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The pomp of ancient days.

Here, too, shall Conway's name appear,
He prais'd the stream so lovely clear,
That shone the reeds among;
Yet clearness could it not disclose,
To match the rhetoric that flows
From Conway's polish'd tongue.

Ev'n Pitt, whose fervent periods roll
Resistless thro' the kindling soul

Tho' form'd for courts; vouchsaf'd to rove,
Inglorious, thro' the shepherd's grove,
And ope his bashful springs.

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But what can courts discover more

Than these rude haunts have seen before,
Each fount and shady tree?

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With all the bloom, with all the truth,

With all the sprightliness of youth,

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By cool reflection sway'd?

Brave, yet humane, shall Smith appear;
Ye sailors' tho' his name be dear,

Think him not yours alone:

Grant him in other spheres to charm;

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The shepherds' breasts tho' mild are warm,

And ours are all his own.

O Lyttleton! my honour'd guest,
Could I describe thy gen'rous breast,

YE Shepherds! so cheerful and gay,
Whose flocks never carelessly roam,
Should Corydon's happen to stray,
Oh! call the poor wanderers home..
Allow me to muse and to sigh,
Nor talk of the change that ye find;
None once was so watchful as I ;
-I have left my dear Phillis behind.

Now I know what it is to have strove
With the torture of doubt and desire;
What it is to admire and to love,
And to leave her we love and admire.
Ah! lead forth my flock in the morn,
And the damps of each ev'ning repel;
Alas! I am faint and forlorn ;

-I have bade my dear Phyllis tarewell.

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Since Phyllis vouchsaf'd me a look,
I never once dream'd of my vine;

May I lose both my pipe and my crook
If I knew of a kid that was mine.

I priz'd ev'ry hour that went by
Beyond all that had pleas'd me before;
But now they are past, and 1 sigh,

And I grieve that I priz'd them no more.

But why do I languish in vain?
Why wander thus pensively here?
Oh! why did I come from the plain,
Where I fed on the smiles of my dear?
They tell me my favourite maid,
The pride of that valley, is flown;
Alas! where with her I have stray'd,
I could wander with pleasure alone.

When forc'd the fair nymph to forego,
What anguish I felt at my heart!
Yet I thought-but it might not be so-
"Twas with pain that she saw me depart.
She gaz'd as I'slowly withdrew';
My path I could hardly discern:
So sweetly she bade me adieu,
thought that she bade me return.