A Copy of VERSES To a very Ingenious Young Gentleman in the Country. Written May 24th. 1714

In shady Groves, in dear, delightful Plains, In silent Shades where peaceful Quiet reigns, There in soft Ease, there happy Tityre Thou liv'st from Care and noisie Tumults free. Believe me Friend 'tis this is Happiness, And shou'd be lookt upon as real Bliss. But don't mistake me Sir, Nor think I hold that there is nothing good But what 's deducible from Solitude; There is one Blessing more, which happy I To th' utmost Height of Happiness enjoy: (Such Happiness I mean as is by Fate Allow'd unto our sublunary State.) It is a soft, a dear, obliging Fair, Who with her Charms dispels intruding Care: Whose dear Enjoyment Softness do's infuse To all my Verse, and animates my Muse. 'Tis She alone, believe me Sir, 'tis She Raises my Numbers into Harmony. But yet, when scarcely eighteen Years had ran Over my Head, And sprouting Down began to promise Man, Then, then I've hear'd, (I've hear'd it with Delight) I've hear'd it whisper'd—Corydon can write. But ah!— Since sacred Hymen's genial Taper shone, And with its Brightness warm'd young Corydon, Fame I have hear'd with her loud Trumpet tell (Oh may 't be true!)—young Corydon writes well. Thus (dearest Friend) you see I plainly show That all my Joys from th' Premises do flow. And yet I wou'd not have you think that I Owe this great BLISS to Sensuality, No, mine 's a noble Flame. Our Consort-Souls harmoniously do move, And Pilot-Reason dictates how to love. These are the Pleasures I 've been treating of, Which tho' I'm full, I have not yet enough. Dear Youth, May your caelebian Sun serenely set, And may indulgent Heaven then see fit, To crown the Residue of your remaining Life With that great Happiness, a vertuous Wife, And may You then with me And Halcyon-Days, in that bright Orbit move, Where Hymen dwells with all the Charms of Love.