Phillis the Fair
While larks with little wing
Fann’d the pure air,
Tasting the breathing spring,
Forth I did fare:
Gay the sun’s golden eye
Peep’d o’er the mountains high;
‘Such thy morn,’ did I cry,
‘Phillis the fair!’
In each bird’s careless song
Glad did I share;
While yon wild flowers among,
Chance led me there:
Sweet to the opening day,
Rosebuds bent the dewy spray;
‘Such thy bloom,’ did I say,
‘Phillis the fair!’
Down in a shady walk,
Doves cooing were,
I mark’d the cruel hawk
Caught in a snare;
So kind may Fortune be,
Such make his destiny,
He who would injure thee,
Phillis the fair!