Songs, Song III

As Phillis the gay at the break of the day Went forth to the meadows a Maying, A clown lay asleep by a river so deep That round in meanders was straying.

His bosom was bare, and for whiteness so rare, Her heart it was gone without warning, With cheeks of such hue that the rose wet with dew Ne'er look'd half so fresh in a morning.

She cull'd the new hay and down by him she lay, Her wishes too warm for disguising; She play'd with his eyes till he wak'd in surprise, And blush'd like the sun at his rising.

She sung him a song as he lean'd on his prong, And rested her arm on his shoulder; She press'd his coy cheek to her bosom so sleek, And taught his two arms to infold her.

The rustick grown kind, by a kiss told his mind, And call'd her his Dear and his Blessing; Together they stray'd, and sung, frolick'd, and play'd, And what they did more there 's no guessing.