Part 44 (2/2)
”The fairies form'd her rosy mouth, And fill'd it with soft words at will, And from her bosom breathes the South-- Sweet breath! that steals my reason still.
”Her waist is measured by the zone The Graces long were wont to wear; And none but Love the comb can own, That smooths the ringlets of her hair.
”And when she glides along like air, Her feet so small, so slight are seen, A little pair of wings, you'd swear, Were flutt'ring where her step has been.
”Dear object of my tender care, My life, my sun, my soul thou art, Oh! listen to the trembling pray'r, That woos thee from this breaking heart.”
A QUARREL.
”Adechat! las mies amous.”
_He_.--MY pretty Margaret, good day!
The mountain air is chill; And if you guide your lambs this way, The cold will do you ill.
_She_.--No, gentle friend, tho' cold I seem, The air I need not fear; It is the chillness of your stream That runs so fresh and clear.
_He_.--The c.o.c.k had not begun his song; When with my flocks I came; To meet you here I waited long-- Your haste was not the same.
_She_.--My lambs and I were in the mead Before the break of day; And you, methinks, have little need To blame _me_ for delay.
_He_.--My sheep, with many a ruddy streak, And bells of jocund sound, Heav'n knows, a lively music make, Which can be heard far round.
Come, let our flocks be hither led, Beneath this shade repair; For you have b.u.t.ter, I have bread, And we our meal will share.
Feed, pretty lambs, and feed, my sheep, Awhile her flock beside, And, as on flow'rs ye browse and sleep, We'll leave you for a tide.
Thou, G.o.d of Love, who in the air, Art hov'ring in our view, Guard well our flocks, and to thy care Oh! take two lovers too!
_She_.--No,--farewell till to-morrow, dear, I may not now abide; For if I longer tarry here, My friends will surely chide.
DESPOURRINS.
”Y Atau quoan la rose ey nabere.”
”When first the rose her perfume threw, And spread her blossoms to the day, I saw thee, Phillis, blooming too, With all the charms that round her play.
”Pure as the sun, thy glace of power, Thy voice has music's softest swell,-- I saw thee in an evil hour, Or never should have loved so well!
”Though from thy presence I remove, While I lament I still adore,-- Oh! what can absence do to love, But to increase the feeling more!
”Ye simple swains, who know not yet What pleasure and what pain may be, Guard well your hearts from Love's regret, If you would live from danger free.”
DESPOURRINS.
”Au mounde nou-y-a nad Pastou, T'a malhurous coum you!”
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