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[Music ]
ONe April Morn, when from the Sea,
Phœbus was just appearing;
Damon and Celia young and gay,
Long,settled Love indearing:
Met in a Grove to vent their spleen,
On Parents unrelenting;
He bred of Tory race had been,
She of the Tribe Dissenting.
Celia, whose Eyes outshone the God,
Newly the hills adorning;
Told him Mamma wou'd be stark mad,
She missing Pray'rs that morning:
Damon, his Arm around her wast,
Swore tho' nought shou'd 'em sunder;
Shou'd my rough Dad know how I'm blest,
Twou'd make him roar like Thunder.
Great ones whom proud Ambition blinds,
By Faction still support it;
Or where vile money taints the mind,
They for convenience court it:
But mighty Love, that scorns to shew,
Party shou'd raise his glory;
Swears he'll Exalt a Vassal true,
Let it be Whigg, or Tory.
