WHen bright Aurelia tript the plain,
How chearful then were seen,
The looks of every jolly swain,
That strove Aurelia’s heart to gain,
With gambols on the green?
Their sports were innocent and gay,
Mixt with a manly air;
They’d sing and dance, and pipe and play,
Each strove to please, some different way,
This dear inchanting fair.
The ambitious strife she did admire,
And equally approve,
‘Till Phaon’s tuneful voice and lyre,
With softest musick did inspire
Her soul to generous love.
Their wonted sports the rest declin’d,
Their arts prov’d all in vain;
Aurelia’s constant now they find,
The more they languish and repin’d,
The more she loves the swain.