Song LXIII., p.315.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

ONE April morn, when from the sea 

Phœbus was just appearing, 

Damon and Celia young and gay, 

Long settled love endearing, 

Met in a grove, to vent their spleen 

On parents unrelenting; 

He bred of Tory-race had been, 

She of the tribe dissenting. 

– 

Celia, whose eyes outshone the God 

Newly the hills adorning, 

Told him, mamma would be stark mad, 

She missing prayers that morning; 

Damon, his arms about her waist 

Swore, tho’ nought should them sunder, 

Shou’d my rough dad know how I’m blest, 

‘Twou’d make him roar like thunder. 

– 

Great ones made by ambition blind, 

By faction still support it, 

Or where vile money taints the mind, 

They for convenience court it: 

But mighty love, that scorns to shew 

Party should raise his glory, 

Swears he’ll exalt a vassal true, 

Let it be whig or tory

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