[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.
