Fair maid, be not so coy
Do not disdain me;
I am my mother's joy,—
Sweet, entertain me!
I shall have, when she dies,
All things that's fitting,—
Her poultry and her bees,
And her goose sitting;
A pair of mattress beds,
A barrelful of shreds;
And yet, for all these gauds,
Phillida flouts me!
I often heard her say
That she loved posies:
In the last month of May
I gave her roses;
Cowslips and gillyflowers,
And the sweet lily,
I got to deck the bowers
Of my dear Philly:
She did them all disdain,
And threw them back again:
Therefore 'tis flat and plain,
Phillida flouts me.
Thou shalt eat curds and cream
All the year lasting,
And drink the crystal stream,
Pleasant in tasting;
Swig whey until thou burst,
Eat bramble-berries,
Pye-lid and pastry crust,
Pears, plums, and cherries;
Thy garments shall be thin,
Made of a wether's skin:
Yet, all's not worth a pin,-
Phillida flouts me!
Which way soe'er I go,
She still torments me;
And whatsoe❜er I do,
Nothing contents me.
I fade and pine away,
With grief and sorrow;
I fall quite to decay,
Like any shadow:
I shall be dead, I fear,
Within a thousand year;
And all because my dear
Phillida flouts me.
Fair maiden, have a care!
And in time take me;
I can have those as fair,
If you forsake me:
There's Doll, the dairy-maid,
Smiled on me lately;
And Wanton Winifred
Favors me greatly:
She throws milk on my clothes,
Th' other plays with my nose:
What pretty toys are those!
Phillida flouts me.
She has a cloth of mine,
Wrought with blue coventry,
Which she keeps as a sign
Of my fidelity;
But if she frowns on me,
She ne'er shall wear it:
I'll give it my maid Joan,
And she shall tear it.
Since 'twill no better be,
I'll bear it patiently;
Yet all the world may see
Phillida flouts me.
ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT.
ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT,
DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES.
'TWAS on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers, that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purr'd applause.
Still had she gazed; but midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.
The hapless Nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretch'd in vain, to reach the prize:
What female heart can gold despise?
What Cat's averse to fish?
ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT.
Presumptuous Maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled:)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to every watery God
Some speedy aid to send:--
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd,
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard-
A favourite has no friend!
From hence, ye Beauties! undeceived
Know one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold:
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
Nor all that glisters, gold!
As after noon, one summer's day
Venus stood bathing in a river,
Cupid a-shooting went that way,
New strung his bow, new fill'd his quiver.
With skill he chose his sharpest dart;
With all his might his bow he drew;
Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
The too-well guided arrow flew.
"I faint! I die!" the goddess cried:
"Oh, cruel! couldst thou find no other
To wreak thy spleen on, Parricide?
Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother!
Poor Cupid, sobbing, scarce could speak; "Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye. Alas! how easy my mistake!
I took you for your likeness--Chloe."
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