A short Pastoral

Remember my Mira when I'm gone away, Those pleasant sweet Arbours where once we did play; Likewise the Meads, the Valleys, the Brooks, Whose murmuring Streams reflected your Looks: Think of those Thickets, where we did beguile, The Noons burning Rays, and the Meridian Toil, Forget not the Flowers, where we used to sit; Remember the Roses which blush'd at your Feet, When the proud Daisies their Leaves did expand, And seem'd to rejoice, when touch'd by your Hand. O! call then to mind those amorous Hours, We spent with such Joy in the Jessamine Bowers; When Mirth and Amusement made us both gay, And innocent Pleasures deluded the Day; 'Till Evening's cool Breezes invited us forth, To hear the Flocks bleating, and see the Lambs sport; And smell the sweet Gales that were fann'd from each Bush, To hear the Notes sung by the Lark and the Thrush: Those warbling Strains that our Loves did inspire, Which rung through the Grove by the feathered Quire. Remember the Rivul'ts which smoothly did glide, When we pass'd pleasantly by their Banks Side; And you in sweet Humour would oftentimes say, My Love shall as lasting, as true be as they. When chearfully proffer'd and promis'd such Bliss, I often embolden'd, would steal a sweet Kiss; Whil'st you with a Blush, would seem to be coy, And patting my Cheek, you'd call me bold Boy. Can you, my dear Nymph, for ever forget, When at the Sheep Fold one Evening we met; When Phoebus was sinking to Thetis's Bed, And Cinthia was rearing her Silver pale Head; When lending your Hand to help a weak Lamb, You tenderly led him to suckle his Dam; Surpriz'd at my Presence, you seem'd much afraid, And bid me begone, not injure a Maid. Startl'd a little, I soon turn'd away, But saw your bright Eyes invited my Stay; Tempted by Beauty, your Looks and your Charms, And wing'd with Desire, I flew to your Arms. Where lost in Delight your Bosom I press'd; But Night, Love and you can tell all the rest; Remember my Charmer, remember what past, And let thy Affections for ever then last. Let Love in my Mira unspotted still burn; And let her be faithful 'till Colin return.