ON WHICH HE HAD CARVED THE NAME OF HIS MISTRESS

On thee, thou favoured bark! I grave
The hallowed name I love the best;
Henceforth thy'joyous boughs shall wave
In ever youthful verdure dress'd.

And while thy trunk, each day, shall swell,
The characters I've traced shall spread,
And nymphs from every grassy well
Around, shall here their measures tread.

Shall tread, when spring renews the year,
With joyous feet to honour thee,
While all the woodland songsters near
Shall pour their blithest melody.

Fond, happy lovers shall repair,
Henceforth, to seek thy leafy shrine,
And weave fresh chaplets for their hair,
While round thy envious brethren pine.

O'er thee the softest dews shall weep
Of Heaven; its loveliest hues shall reign:
Nor in thy holy shade shall sleep
One treacherous maid, one faithless swain.

No bird of prey on thee shall light,
Nor mid thy branches fold his wing;
Sweet Philomel, alone, all night,
Shall nestle there, and there shall sing.