IN April, when Primroses paint the sween plain,
And Summer approkching rejoyceth the swain;
The Yellow-hair’d Laddie would oftentimes go
To wilds and deep glens, where the hawthorn-trees grow.
There, under the shade of an old sacred thorn,
With freedom he sung his loves ev’ning and morn:
He sung with so saft and inchanting a sound,
That Silvans and Fairies unseen danc’d around.
The shepherd thus sang, Tho’ young Maya be fair,
Her beauty is dash’d with a scornfu’ proud air;
But Susie was handsome, and sweetly could sing,
Her breath like the breezes perfum’d in the spring.
That Madie in all the gay Bloom of her youth,
Like the moon was unconstant, and never spoke truth:
But Susie was faithful, good-humour’d and free,
And fair as the goddess who sprung from the sea.
That mamma’s fine daughter, with all her great
Was aukwardly airy, and frequently sow’r: (dow’r,
Then, sighing, he wished, would Parents agree,
The witty sweet Susie his Mistress might be.