20
THIRD PASTORAL.
Let hares and hounds in coupling straps unite,[1]
The clocking hen make friendship with the kite, 60
Let the fox simply wear the nuptial noose,
And join in wedlock with the wadling goose;
For love hath brought a stranger thing to pass,
The fairest shepherd weds the foulest lass.
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid, 65
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Sooner shall cats disport in waters clear,[2]
And speckled mackrels graze the meadows fair,
Sooner shall scriech-owls bask in sunny day,
And the slow ass on trees, like squirrels, play, 70
Sooner shall snails on insect pinions rove,
Then I forget my shepherd's wonted love!
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Ah! didst thou know what profers I withstood,
When late I met the squire in yonder wood! 76
To me he sped, regardless of his game,
While all my cheek was glowing red with shame;
My lip he kiss'd, and prais'd my healthful look,
Then from his purse of silk a guinea took, 80
Into my hand he forc'd the tempting gold,
While I with modest struggling broke his hold.
He swore that Dick in liv'ry strip'd with lace,
Should wed me soon to keep me from disgrace;
But I nor footman priz'd nor golden fee, 85
For what is lace or gold compar'd to thee?
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
The clocking hen make friendship with the kite, 60
Let the fox simply wear the nuptial noose,
And join in wedlock with the wadling goose;
For love hath brought a stranger thing to pass,
The fairest shepherd weds the foulest lass.
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid, 65
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Sooner shall cats disport in waters clear,[2]
And speckled mackrels graze the meadows fair,
Sooner shall scriech-owls bask in sunny day,
And the slow ass on trees, like squirrels, play, 70
Sooner shall snails on insect pinions rove,
Then I forget my shepherd's wonted love!
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Ah! didst thou know what profers I withstood,
When late I met the squire in yonder wood! 76
To me he sped, regardless of his game,
While all my cheek was glowing red with shame;
My lip he kiss'd, and prais'd my healthful look,
Then from his purse of silk a guinea took, 80
Into my hand he forc'd the tempting gold,
While I with modest struggling broke his hold.
He swore that Dick in liv'ry strip'd with lace,
Should wed me soon to keep me from disgrace;
But I nor footman priz'd nor golden fee, 85
For what is lace or gold compar'd to thee?
My plaint, ye lasses, with this burthen aid,
'Tis hard so true a damsel dies a maid.
Now