Classic Poem

A MINTOR .

Still am I doom'd, alas! my Fate!
To bear the cruel D APHANE'S Hate,
By Day I seek the lonely Shade,
Though absent, I behold the Maid;
Run o'er her charming, lovely Mein,
The Envy of our Village Green;
At Night, in Dreams what sweet Disguise!
In Fancy rapt, methought those Eyes
Survey'd me with a kinder Air,
Dispell'd my Gloom, forbad Desprir;
'Twas but a Dream! I wake to know
The greatest Torment here below;
For slighted Love — alas! the Bane,
Nor will you ease my Heart-felt Pain.

Daphne .

P EACE , whining Swain — I know you all:
You've Sighs, and Pray'rs, and Words at Call;
Think not to trap my Virgin's Heart
With well-feign'd Wounds from Cupid's Dart;
I have not, (thank my Stars!) tho' bred
In Village Cot, so weak a Head,
As to believe an artful Tale —
Remember P HILLIS of the Dale ;
You've told this Story oft before —
No; I'll be honest, tho' I'm poor.

A MINTOR .

Daphne , indeed you wrong my Love;
I swear, by all that's good Above,
I will not, cou'd not Y OU deceive,
And what I say, you may believe:
Trust me, I love with honest Mind,
If charming Daphne proves but kind,
Consents to make me her's for Life,
I'll take her for my wedded Wife;
Together, Hand, in Hand we'll rove
Through yonder sweet, retir'd Grove;
Admire Nature's blooming Face,
And all her pleasing Wonders trace.
Your Care, to tend the suckling Lambs,
And mine, to watch their bleating Dams;
Whilst they are feeding, You and I,
Observing both with careful Eye,
Will under friendly Shade recline,
Then say, my Daphne — — you'll be mine,

Daphne .

If you will act the honest Part,
I must confess a partial Heart;
And frankly own, I feel it true,
That I've an equal Love for you:
Long has A MINTOR'S comely Air
Disturb'd my Peace, with Hope and Fear;
But sooner wou'd I chuse to die,
Or live in Want and Misery,
Than suffer a designing Swain,
To rob me of my honest Name.

A MINTOR .

I' LL give my Daphne ev'ry Proof
That I'm an honest-hearted Youth:
Full well I like that prudent Mind,
To ev'ry Goodness so inclin'd;
I wou'd not, to be lov'd by Queen,
Forego the Joys of thy Esteem;
Then haste, my Fair, make no Delay,
To Love and Happiness away:
No more with racking Doubt distrest,
Since Daphne'S kind, A MINTOR'S blest.