THE SKY LARK, &c, Song

To fly, like bird, from grove to grove, To wander like the bee, To sip of tastes and sweets of love, Is not enough for me. No slutt'ring passions wake my breast; I wish the place to find, Where fate may give me peace and rest, One shepherd to my mind.

To ev'ry youth I'll not be gay, Nor try on all my power; Nor future pleasures throw away In toyings for an hour. I would not reign the general toast, Be prais'd by all the town; A thousand tongues on me are lost; I'll hear but only one.

For which of all the flatt'ring train, Who swarm at beauty's shrine, When youths gay charms are in the wane, Will court their sure decline? Then fops and wits and beaux forbear, Your arts will never do; For some fond youth shall be my care, Life's chequer'd seasons through.

My little heart shall have a home, A warm and shelter'd nest: No giddy flights shall make me roam, From where I most am blest. With love, and only that dear swain, What tranquil joys I see! Farewel ye false, inconstant train! For one is all to me.