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To Nancy raise the cheerful lay,
O bid her haste and come away;
In sweetest smiles herself adorn,
And add new graces to the morn.
O hark, my love! on ev'ry spray,
Each feather'd warbler tunes his lay;
'Tis beauty fires the ravish'd throng,
And love inspires the melting song.
Then let my ravish'd notes arise,
For beauty darts from Nanny's eyes;
And love my rising bosom warms,
And fills my soul with sweet alarms.
O come, my love, thy Colin's lay,
With rapture calls, Oh! come away;
Come, while the muse this wreath shall twine,
Around the modest brow of thine,
O hither haste, and with thee bring,
That beauty, blooming like the spring;
Those graces that divinely shine,
And charm this ravish'd heart of mine.
F I N I S.
