Classic Poem

At dewy Dawn,
As o'er the Lawn,
Young Roger early stray'd,
He chanced to meet
With Jenny sweet,
The blooming Country Maid.
Her Cheeks so red
With Blushes spread
Shew'd like the breaking Day.
Her modest Look
The Shepherd took;
She stole his Heart away.

With tender Air,
He woo'd the Fair,
And movingly addrest;
For Love divine,
Can Clowns refine,
And warm the coldest Breast;
Her Eyes he prais'd,
And fondly gaz'd
On her inchanting Face,
Where Innocence,
And Health dispense,
Each winning rosy Grace.
Young Jenny's Breast,
Love's Pow'r confess'd,
And felt an equal Fire;
Nor had she Art,
To hide her Smart,
Or check the soft Desire.

Hymen unites,
In blissful Rites,
The Fair, the matchless Two;
And Wedlock ne'er
Could boast a Pair
More lovely or more true.

Ye Rich and Great,
How seldom Fate
Gives you so mild a Doom;
Whose wand'ring Flames,
And wanton Dames,
A mutual Plague become;

While Coach and six
Your Passion fix,
You buy your State too dearly;
Ah, courtly Folks!
You're but the Jokes
Of those who love sincerely.