The Grove

See how Damon's age appears, This grove declares his fading years; For this he planted once, and eat The maiden fruits of what he set. Young it was then, like him; but now, Sapless and old is every bough. Thus, my Lesbia, will it be, In time to come, with thee, and me. Come, then, in love and youthful play Let 's pass the smiling hours away, Before this tender amorous mark Grow wide upon its fading bark; And shew, like Damon's grove, that we Are old and gray, as well as he.