ROBI N.

A PASTORAL ELEGY.

By Capt. JOHN DOBSON.

DOWN

OWN by the Brook which glides thro
yonder Vale,

His Hair all matted, and his Cheeks all pale,
Robin, fad Swain ! by Love and Sorrow pain'd,
Of flighted Vows, and Sufan, thus complain'd.
Hear me, ye Groves, who faw me bleft fo late;
Echo, ye Hills, my fad Reverse of Fate:
Ye Winds, that bear my Sighs, foft Murmurs
fend;

Come pay me back, ye Streams, the Drops I lend.
And you, fweet Sufan, Source of all my Smart,
Beftow fome Pity on a broken Heart.

Happy the Times, by painful Mem'ry bleft,
When you poffeffing, Robin all poffefs'd.
Pafs'd by your Side, each Day brought new De-
light,

And one fweet Slumber shorten'd ev'ry Night.
My Play your Service, for no Toil feem'd hard,
When your kind Favour was the hop'd Reward..
I rofe 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

When by the Haycock's Side you fleeping lay, Sent by good Angels, there I chanc'd to ftray, Juft as a loathfome Adder rear'd his Creft, To dart his Poifon in your lilly Breaft; Strait with a Stone Icrush'd the Monster's Head; Youwak'd, and fainted, tho' you found him dead. Then from the Pond I Water brought apace, My Hat brimful, and dash'd it in your Face: 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'thegrim Maftiff.growl'd,and sternlystalk'd,
Tho'Guns were loaded, and old Madam walk'd;
Nor Dogs, nor Darkness, Guns or Ghofts,.
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 Show'r they fall,
Glad you receiv'd them, and you eat them all.
When Fair-day came, I donn'd my Sunday

Suit,

Brush'd the best Pillion clean, and faddled Cut. 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 backward flipp'd,

I held your Petticoats, and never peep'd.

The

The pofied Garters, and the Top-knot fine, The golden Gingerbread,—and all was mine: I paid the Puppet-show, the Cakes, the Sack; And, fraught with Fairings, brought you laughing back.

Sufan but fpoke, and each gay Flow'r was
there,

To drefs her Bough-pot, or adorn her Hair:
For her the choiceft of the Woods I cull,
Skoes, Hips, and Strawberries, her Belly full.
My Hoard of Apples I to her confeft;
My Heart was her's, well might she have the reft.
And Sufan well approv'd her Robin's Care ;
Yes, you was pleas'd; at least 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 fattest Bacon you my Trencher ply'd,
And flic'd me Pudding from the plumby Side
And well I wot when our small Beer was ftale,
You ftole into the Barn, and brought me Ale.
But oh! the Soldier, Blafter of my Hopes!
(Curfe off Pretending Kings, and Papish Popes)
He came from Flanders with the red-coat Crew,
To fight with Rebels, and he conquer'd you.
His Dowlas Ruffles, and his Copper Lace,
His Brick-duft Stockings, and his brazen Face,

Thefe

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 liften'd to the Braggard's Lies:

And, fcorning me, your Heart to him refign, Your faithlefs Heart, by Vows and Service, mine.

True, he is gone, by our brave Duke's Com

mand,

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 Sorrow's dry;-I'll flake it inthe Brook→→→→
O well-a-day! how frightful pale I look!
Care's a Consumer (fo the Saying speaks)
The Saying's true; I read it in my Cheeks.
Fie, I'll be chearful, '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 Parson said,
True Love and Tythes should ever well be paid.
Sufan, from you my Heart shall never roam,
If your's be wand'ring, quickly call it Home.

The

The STATUES; or, the TRIAL of CONSTANCY.

I

A TALE for the LADIES.

N a fair Ifland on the southern Main,

Bleft with indulgent Skies, and kindly Rain, A Princess liv'd, of Origin divine, Of Bloom celestial, and Imperial Line.

In that sweet Season,when the mounting Sun Prepares with Joy, his radiant Course to run, Led by the Graces, and the dancing Hours, And wakes to Life the various Race of Flow'rs The lovely Queen forfook her shining Court, For rural Scenes, and healthful fylvan Sport. It fo befel, that as in chearful Talk Her Nymphs, and she, purfu'd their Ev'ning Walk,

On the green Margin of the ouzy Deep, They found a graceful Youth diffolv'd in Sleep, Whose Charms the Queen furvey'd with fond Delight,

And hung enamour'd o'er the pleafing Sight: By her Command the Youth was ftrait convey'd, And, fleeping, foftly in her Palace laid.

Now ruddy Morning purpled o'er the Skies, And beamy Light unfeal'd the Stranger's Eyes, Who cry'd aloud, Ye Gods unfold this Scene! Where am I? what can all thefe Wonders mean?

Scarce