Labour in Vain. a New Song

In pursuit of some lambs from my flocks that had stray'd, One morning I rang'd o'er the plain; But alas! after all my researches were made, I perceiv'd that my labour was vain.

At length, growing hopeless my lambs to restore, I resolv'd to return back again; It was useless I thought to seek after them more, Since I found that my labour was vain.

On this my return pretty Phebe I saw, And to love her I could not refrain; To solicit a kiss I approach'd her with awe, But she told me my labour was vain.

Dear Phebe, I cried, to my suit lend an ear, And let me no longer complain;— She replied, with a frown and an aspect severe, Young Colin your labour's in vain.

Then I eagerly clasp'd her quite close to my breast, And kiss'd her and kiss'd her again— O! Colin, she cried, if you're rude I protest, That your labour shall still be in vain.

At length, by intreaties, by kisses and vows, Compassion she took on my pain; She now has consented to make me her spouse, So no longer I labour in vain.