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One morning (I remember well)
Ty'd in this filver chain and bell,
Gave it to me: nay, and I know
What he faid then; I'm fure I do.
Said he, look how your huntsman here
Hath taught a fawn to hunt his dear.
But Sylvio foon had me beguil'd:
This waxed tame, while he grew wild;
And quite regardless of my smart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.
Thenceforth I fet myself to play


My folitary time away,
With this: and very well content,
Could fo mine idle life have spent :
For it was full of sport; and light

Of foot, and heart; and did invite
Me to its game: it seem'd to bless 35
Itfelf in me. How could I lefs
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 efpy, Thy love was far more better than The love of falfe and cruel man.


With fweetest milk, and sugar, first ́

I it at mine own fingers nurst:
And as it grew, fo every day

It wax'd more white and sweet than they.
It had fo fweet a breath! and oft 51
I blusht to see its foot more soft
And white, shall I say than my hand?
Nay, any lady's of the land.

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

To be a little wilderness.

And all the fpring-time of the year
It only loved to be there.

Among the beds of lillies I

Have fought it, oft, where it should lye:
Yet could not, till itself would rise, 71
Find it, although before mine eyes:
For, in the flaxen lillies shade,
It like a bank of lillies laid.

Upon the roses it would feed,

Untill its lips ev'n feem'd to bleed:
And then to me 'twould boldly trip,
And print thofe roses on my lip.
But all its chief delight was ftill
On roses thus its felf to fill:
And its pure virgin limbs to fold
In whiteft sheets of lillies cold.
Had it liv'd long, it would have been
Lillies without, roses within.

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.
the wounded balfome: fo
The holy frankincenfe doth flow.
The brotherlefs Heliades

Melt in fuch amber tears as thefe.

I in a golden vial will

Keep these two crystal tears; and fill
It 'till it do o'erflow with mine;
Then place it in Diana's fhrine.
Now my
fweet fawn is vanish'd to
Whither the fwans and turtles go:

In fair Elyzium to endure,

With milk-white lambs, and ermins, pure..

O do not run too fast: for I


Will but bespeak thy grave, and die.





Firft my unhappy statue shall


Be cut in marble; and withal,
Let it be weeping too: but there
Th' engraver sure his art may spare ;
For I fo truly thee bemoan,
That I fhall weep though I be stone :
Untill my tears, ftill dropping, wear
My breast, themselves engraving there.
There at my feet fhalt thou be laid, 111
Of pureft alabaster made:
For I would have thine image be
White as I can, though not as thee.



THE fnows are melted all away,
The fields grow flow'ry, green, and gay,

The trees put on their tender leaves;
And all the streams, that went aftray,
The brook again into her bed receives.

See! the whole earth has made a change:
The nymphs and graces naked range
About the fields, who fhrunk before
Into their caves. The empty grange
Prepares its room for a new fummer's store.

Left thou shouldft hope immortal things,
The changing year instruction brings,
The fleeting hour, that steals away
The beggar's time, and life of kings,
But ne'er returns them, as it does the day.

The cold grows soft with western gales,
The Summer over Spring prevails,
But yields to Autumn's fruitful rain,
As this to Winter storms and hails;
Each lofs the hafting moons repair again.

Born 1628; dyed 1698.





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