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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