Whimfically travers'd o'er,
Here a knot, and there a flower,
Like her little heart that dances,
Full of maggots, full of fancies.
Flowing loosely down her back
Draw with art the graceful fack;
Ornament it well with gimping,
Flounfes, furbeloes, and crimping-
Let of ruffles many a.row
Guard her elbows, white as fnow;
Knots below, and knots above,
Emblems of the ties of love.
Let her hoop, extended wide,
Show what petticoats should hide,
Garters of the fofteft filk,"
Stockings whiter than the milk;
Charming part of female drefs,
Did it fhow us more or lefs.
Let a pair of velvet shoes
Gently prefs her petty-toes,
Gently prefs, and foftly squeeze,
Tottering like the fair Chinese,
Mounted high, and buckled low,
Tottering every step they go.
Take these hints, and do thy duty,
Fashions are the tests of beauty;
Features vary and perplex,
Mode's the woman, and the sex.
Own by the brook which glides thro' yonder
vale,
His hair all matted, and his cheeks all pale,
Robin, fad fwain, by love and forrow pain'd,
Of flighted vows, and Sufan, thus complain'd:
Hear me, ye groves, who saw me bleft fo late;
Echo, ye hills, my fad reverfe of fate :
Ye winds, that bear my fighs, soft murmurs fend;
Come pay me back, ye ftreams, the drops I lend.
And you, fweet Sufan, fource of all my fmart,
Beftow fome pity on a broken heart.
Happy the times, by painful memory blest,
When you poffeffing, Robin all poffefs'd!
Pafs'd by your fide, each day brought new delight,
And one sweet flumber shorten'd every night.
My play your fervice, for no toil feem'd hard,
When your kind favour was the hop'd reward.
I rose to milking, tho' 'twas ne'er fo cool;
I call'd the cows up; I kept off the bull:
Home on my head I bore the pail upright;
The pail was heavy, but love made it light:
And when you spilt the milk, and 'gan to cry,
I took the blame, and fimply faid-'twas I.
When by the haycock's fide you fleeping lay,
Sent by good angels, there I chanc'd to stray,
Juft as a loathsome adder rear'd his crest,
To dart his poifon in your lilly breast,
Strait with a stone I crush'd the monster's head;
You wak'd, and fainted, tho' you found him dead;
Then, from the pond, I water brought a-pace,
My hat brimful, and dash'd it in your
Still, blue as bilberry, your cold lips did quake,
Till my warm kiffes call'd the cherry back.
When, looking thro' his worship's garden gate,
Ripe peaches tempted, and you long'd to eat ;
Tho' the grim mastiff growl'd, and fternly stalk'd,
Tho' guns were loaded, and old Madam walk'd;
Nor dogs, nor darkness, guns, or ghosts, could fright,
When Robin ventur'd for his Sue's delight:
Joyful of midnight quick I poft away,
Leap the high wall, and fearless pluck the prey;
Down in your lap a plenteous fhower they fall;
Glad you receiv'd them, and you eat them all.
When fair-day came, I donn'd my funday fuit,
Brush'd the best pillion clean, and faddled Cutt.
Then up we got; you clung about my waist;
Pleas'd to be hugg'd, I charg'd you clip me fast:
And when you loos'd your hold, and backwardslipp'd,
I held your petticoats, and never peep'd.
The pofied garters, and the top-knot fine,
The golden ginger-bread, and all was mine:
I paid the puppet-fhow, the cakes, the fack;
And, fraught with fairings, brought you laughing
back.
Sufan but spoke, and each gay flower was there,
To dress her bough-pot, or adorn her hair:
For her the choiceft of the woods I cull,
Sloes, hips, and strawberries, her belly full:
My hoard of apples I to her confeft;
My heart was hers, well might she have the rest.
And Sufan well approv'd her Robin's care,
Yes, you was pleas'd; at leaft you faid you were,
In love's foft fire you feem'd like me to burn,
And footh'd my fondness with a kind return.
At our long table, when we fat to dine,
You ftretch'd your knees, and mingled feet with mine;
With fatteft bacon you my trencher plied,
And flic'd my pudding from the plumby fide:
And well I wot, when our small-beer was ftale,
You ftole into the barn, and brought me ale.
But oh, the foldier, blafter of my hopes!
(Curfe on pretending kings, and papish popes)
He came from Flanders with the red-coat crew,
To fight with rebels, and he conquer'd you.
His doulas ruffles, and his copper lace,
His brickduft stockings, and his brazen face,
These are the charms for which you flight my youth;
Charms much too potent for a maiden's truth!
Soon on the feather'd fool you turn'd your eyes ;
Eager you listen'd to the braggard's lyes;
And, fcorning me, your heart to him refign,
Your faithless heart, by vows and fervice, mine.
True, he is gone, by our brave duke's command,
To humble Britain's foes in foreign land:
Ah, what is that? the spoiler bears away
The only thing for which 'twas worth to stay.
But forrow's dry; -I'll flake it in the brook;
O well-a-day! how frightful pale I look!
Care's a confumer (fo the saying speaks)
The faying's true, I read it in my cheeks.
Fie! I'll be cheerful, 'tis a fancied pain;
A flame fo conftant cannot meet difdain:
I'll wash my face, and shake off foul despair,
My love is kind; alas! I would she were.
Well fays our parfon; and our parfon faid,
"True love and tithes should ever well be paid."
Sufan, from you my heart fhall never roam,
If your's be wandering, quickly call it home.
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