One morning (I remember well) Ty'd in this filver chain and bell, 20 25 What he faid then; I'm fure I do. 30 My folitary time away, Than love it? OI cannot be Unkind t'a beaft that loveth me. Had it liv'd long, I do not know Whether it too might have done fo 40 As Sylvio did; his gifts might be Perhaps as falfe, or more than he. But I am fure, for ought that I Could in so short a time espy, Thy love was far more better than The love of falfe and cruel man. 45 With fweetest milk, and sugar, first ́ I it at mine own fingers nurst: It wax'd more white and sweet than they. I blusht to see its foot more soft 51 It is a wond'rous thing how fleet 55 "Twas on those little filver feet: . With what a pretty skipping grace, It oft would challenge me the race And when 't had left me far away, "Twould ftay, and run again, and stay. For it was nimbler much than hinds; 61 And trod, as if on the four winds. I have a garden of my own, But fo with roses overgrown, And lillies, that you would it guefs 65 And all the spring-time of the year Among the beds of lillies I Have fought it, oft, where it fhould lye: Upon the roses it would feed, Untill its lips ev'n feem'd to bleed: But all its chief delight was ftill On roses thus its felf to fill: And its pure virgin limbs to fold 75 80% O help! O help! I fee it faint: 85. And die as calmly as a faint. See now it weeps. The tears do come Sad, flowly dropping like a gumme. So weeps the wounded balfome: fo The holy frankincenfe doth flow. The brotherlefs Heliades Melt in fuch amber tears as these. I in a golden vial will Keep these two cryftal tears; and fill Now my sweet fawn is vanish'd to In fair Elyzium to endure, 95. With milk-white lambs, and ermins, pure.. O do not run too faft: for I IOL Will but befpeak thy grave, and die. Firft my unhappy ftatue shall Th' engraver fure his art may fpare; 105 That I shall weep though I be stone: For I would have thine image be HORACE. LIB. IV. ODE 7. BY SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, BART.* THE fnows are melted all away, And all the streams, that went aftray, The brook again into her bed receives. 5 See! the whole earth has made a change: About the fields, who fhrunk before Left thou shouldft hope immortal things, The cold grows foft with western gales, Born 1628; dyed 1698. 10 15 20 |