Bell's Edition

Let his crook be with hyacinths bound,
So Phyllis the trophy despise;

Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd,"
So they shine not in Phyllis's eyes.
The language that flows from the heart"
Is a stranger to Paridel's tongue;
-Yet may she beware of his art,
Or sure I must envy the song.

IV. DISAPPOINTMENT.

Ye Shepherds! give ear to my lay,
And take no more heed of my sheep;
They have nothing to do but to stray,
I have nothing to do but to weep.
Yet do not my folly reprove ;-

She was fair-and my passion begun;
She smil'd-and I could not but love ;.
She is faithless and I am undone.

Perhaps I was void of all thought

Perhaps it was plain to foresee...

That a nymph so complete would be sought
By a swain more engaging than me.
Ah! love ev'ry hope can inspire,:
It banishes wisdom the while,
And the lip of the nymph we admire
Seems for ever adorn'd with a smile.

She is faithless, and I am undone;
Ye that witness the woes I endure,
Let reason instruct you to shun
What it cannot instruct you to cure.
Beware how you loiter in vain
Amid nymphs of an higher degree;
It is not for me to explain
How fair and how fickle they be.

Alas! from the day that we met
What hope of an end to my woes?
When I cannot endure to forget
The glance that undid my repose.
Yet time may diminish the pain :
The flow'r, and the shrub, and the tree,
Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain,
In time may have comfort for me.

The sweets of a dew-sprinkled rose,
The sound of a murmuring stream,
The peace which from solitude flows,
Henceforth shall be Corydon's theme.
High transports are shewn to the sight,
But we are not to find them our own;
Fate never bestow'd such delight
As I with my Phyllis had known.

O ye Woods! spread your branches apace,
To your deepest recesses I fly,

I would hide with the beasts of the chase,
'I would vanish from every eye.

Yet my reed shall resound thro' the grove
With the same sad complaint it begun;
How she smil'd, and I could not but love
Was faithless, and I am undone.