Songs I

In a vale fring'd with woodland, where grottos abound, And rivulets murmur, and echoes resound, I vow'd to the Muses my time and my care; Since neither could win me the smiles of my fair.

As freedom inspir'd me, I rang'd and I sung; And Daphne's dear name never fell from my tongue: But if once a smooth accent delighted my ear, I should wish, unawares, that my Daphne might hear.

With fairest ideas my bosom I stor'd; Allusions to none but the nymph I ador'd: And the more I with study my fancy refin'd, The deeper impression she made on my mind.

Ah! whilst I the beauties of nature pursue, I still must my Daphne's fair image renew: The Graces have chosen with Daphne to rove, And the Muses are all in alliance with Love.