THE DUMPS Selected and alter'd from Gay's Pastorals.

(Andante Largo e Amoroso)

A Maiden's soft wailings I now shall recite,
Whom Jealously robb'd of each rural delight,
Such strains never came from the Linnets sweet throat,
Nor sings the gay Finch so charming a Note
At Dusk o fthe Ev'ning poor Phillis forlorn,
With Love unreturned and hard Labour now worn,
First lean'd on her Rake, then with heart breaking Sighs,
She vented her Grief from her Lips and her Eyes.

Come Night dark as Pitch, and encompass my Head,
For Celadon basely from Phillis is fled,
The Ribbon his Cudgel undauntedly won,
Last Sunday the happier Dorcas put on.
'Tis sure if he'd Eyes, (but they say LOVE has none),
THAT Ribbon at Church might have made me well known;
Alack! I am shent* with curst Jealousy's Smart,
For with that same Ribbon he gave his false heart.

(*shent, an old word signifying hurt or harmed.)

My Visage I've often observed in yon Lake,
My Features are not of the homeliest make.
Though Dorcas may boast of a still whiter Dye,
The glossy black Sloe turns in my rolling Eye;
The fairest of Blossoms will drop with each Blast;
But Beauty that's Brown like the Holly will last:
Her Skin much resembles the pale wither'd Leek,
While fine Katherine Pears glow in my ruddy Cheek.

Ah! did he but know the attempt I with stood,
When the spruce pretty SQIRE I met in yon Wood!
A broad Piece of Gold he then put in my Hand;
But virtue could him and his Proffer withstand.
If virtue is nothing then Life is my Foe,
The murmuring Stream soon shall rid me of woe.
My Plaint, O ye Lasses, with this Burthen aid,
'Tis hard, that a Damsel so true dies a Maid.