Perpetual Spring cloath'd the fair mountain's fide; The LINK. A BAL L A D. Y E ladies that live in the city or town, Fair Winton or Alresford fo fine and fo gay; And ye neat country laffes in clean linen gown, As neat and as blithe and as pretty as they : Come away ftrait to Ovington, for you can't think What a charming new walk there is made on the Link. Look how lovely the profpect, the meadows how green, VOL. IV, I How How pleasant the morning, how clear the blue sky, How pure the fresh air, and how healthy the place! Your heart goes a pit-a-pat light as a fly, And the blood circles brifkly, and glows in your face: Would you paint your fair cheeks with the rofe and the Throw your washes away, take a walk on the Link. [pink? After dinner the 'fquire ere the ladies retreat, Marches off with fome friends that will ply the brisk glafs; Not fo gentle Collin, whom love holds in thrall, But, O ye fair maidens, be fure have a care, Of the hour and the place and the season beware, Sly Cupid will fteal in at fome little chink, walk in the evening too late on the Link. Ye poets fo lofty, who love to retire From the noise of the town to the ftream and the wood; Who in epics and tragics, with marvellous fire, And come you, who for thought are at little expence, And the rhime at the close how it falls with a clink, THE SQUIRE of DA ME S. A POE M. In SPENSER's STILE. ADVERTISEMENT. In the Seventh Canto of the Legend of Chastity, in Spenfer's Fairy Queen, the Squire of Dames tells Satyrane, that by order of his mistress Columbel (after having ferved the ladies for a year) he was sent out a fecond time, not to return till he could find three hundred women incapable of yielding to any temptation. The bad fuccefs he met with in the course of three years, whichis fightly touch'd upon by Spenfer, is the foundation of the following poem. PROLOGU E. I. HARD is the heart that never knew to love, Ne felt the pleafing anguish of defire. Ye British maids, more fair than Venus' dove, Adopt me, nymphs, receive me in your quire, Who doth for court his annual fong prepare : II. Think II. Think not because I write of Columbel I thence would blast the sex with impious tale; Ne 'gainst a British female would I rail Did fuck the poifon from her Edward's wound, And Anna's nuptial faith shall stond for aye renown'd. III. See the fair swans on Thamis' lovely tide, The which do trim their pennons filver bright, In fhining ranks they down the waters ride; Oft have mine eyes devour'd the gallant fight. Then caft thy looks with wonder and delight, Where yon fweet nymphs enjoy the ev❜ning air, Some daunce along the green, like fairies light, Some flow'rets cull to deck their flowing hair; Then tell me, foothly, fwain, which fight thou deem'ít [most fair. IV. To you, bright stars, that sparkle on our isle, I give my life, my fortune, and my fame; A smile from you is all I hope or claim; |