A Song.

A SONG.

THYRSIS, a young and am'rous Swain, Saw two, the Beauties of the Plain; Who both his Heart subdue: Gay Caelia's Eyes were dazzling fair, Sabina's easy Shape and Air With softer Magick drew.

He haunts the Stream, he haunts the Grove, Lives in a fond Romance of Love, And seems for each to dye; 'Till each a little spiteful grown, Sabina Caelia's Shape ran down, And she Sabina's Eye.

Their Envy made the Shepherd find Those Eyes, which Love cou'd only blind; So set the Lover free: No more he haunts the Grove or Stream, Or with a True-love Knot and Name Engraves a wounded Tree.

Ah Caelia! (sly Sabina cry'd) Tho' neither love, we're both deny'd; Now, to support the Sex's Pride, Let either fix the Dart. Poor Girl! (says Caelia) say no more; For shou'd the Swain but one adore, That Spite which broke his Chains before, Wou'd break the other's Heart.