Song, p.33.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

Tune of, Logan Water


Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloe


TEll me Hamilla, tell me why 

Thou dost from him that loves thee run? 

Why from his soft embraces fly, 

And all his kind endearments shun? 


So flies the fawn, with fear oppress’d 

Seeking its mother ev’ry where, 

It starts at ev’ry empty blast, 

And trembles when no danger’s near. 


And yet I keep thee but in view, 

To gaze the glories of thy face, 

Nor with a hateful stept pursue, 

As age, to rifle every grace. 


Cease then, dear wildness, cease to toy, 

But haste all rivals to outshine, 

And grown mature, and ripe for joy, 

Leave mama’s arms and come to mine

New Words by Different Hands

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s