The sun was now withdrawn, The shepherds home were sped; The moon wide o'er the lawn Her silver mantle spread; When Damon stay'd behind, And saunter'd in the grove. Will ne'er a nymph be kind, And give me love for love? Oh! those were golden hours, When Love, devoid of cares, In all Arcadia's bow'rs Lodg'd swains and nymphs by pairs! But now from wood and plain Flys ev'ry sprightly lass, No joys for me remain, In shades, or on the grass. The winged boy draws near, And thus the swain reproves. While beauty revell'd here, My game lay in the groves; At Court I never fail To scatter round my arrows, Men fall as thick as hail; And maidens love like sparrows. Then, swain, if me you need, Strait lay your sheep-hook down; Throw by your oaten reed, And haste away to town. So well I'm known at Court, None asks where Cupid dwells; But readily resort To B-----n's or L----ll's. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN OLD BURYING GROUND by ELFRIDA DE RENNE BARROW THE WATER-SPRINGS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE PASTURE POND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: ANTARA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE ORCHARD FEAST by GORDON BOTTOMLEY AN EPITAPH (AFTER THE GREEK EPIGRAMS) by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB THE SALLE MONTESQUIEU; A PARISIAN REMINISCENCE by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER |