Song, pp.128-130.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

To the Tune of, The happy clown

– 

IT was the charming month of May 

When all the flow’rs were fresh and gay, 

One morning by the break of day, 

Sweet Chloe, chaste and fair, 

– 

From peaceful slumber she arose, 

Girt on her mantle and her hose, 

And o’er the flowry mead she goes, 

To breath a purer air. 

– 

Her looks so sweet, so gay her mein, 

Her handsome shape and dress so clean, 

She lookt all o’er like beauties queen, 

Drest in her best aray. 

– 

The gentle winds, and purling stream 

Essay’d to whisper Chloe’s name, 

The savage beasts till then ne’er tame, 

Wild adoration pay. 

– 

The feather’d people one might see, 

Parch’d all around her on a tree, 

With notes of sweetest melody 

They act a cheerful part. 

– 

The dull slaves on the toilsome plow, 

Their wearied necks and knees do bow, 

A glad subjection there they vow, 

Το pay with all their heart. 

– 

The bleating flocks that then came by, 

Soon as the charming nymph they spy, 

They leave their hoarse and ruful cry, 

And dance around the brooks. 

– 

The woods are glad, the meadows smile, 

And Forth that foam’d, and roar’d ere while, 

Glides calmly down as smooth as oil, 

Thro’ all its charming crooks. 

– 

The finny squadrons are content, 

To leave their wat’ry element, 

In glazie numbers down they bent, 

They flutter all along. 

– 

The insects, and each creeping thing, 

Join’d to make up the rural ring, 

All frisk and dance, if she but sing, 

And make a jovial throng. 

– 

Kind Phœbus now began to rise, 

And paint with red the eastern skies, 

Struck with the glory of her eyes, 

He shrinks behind a cloud. 

– 

Her mantle on a bough she lays, 

And all her glory she displays, 

She left all nature in amaze, 

And skip’d into the wood. 

Authors Unknown

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