ΤΟ

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM

THESE LITTLE VOLUMES

ARE

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

Page

The glories of our blood and state
The groves, the plains

The heavy hours are almost pass'd
The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left
The larks awake the drowsy morn

The lovely Delia smiles again

The pride of every grove I chose

The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower

The shape alone let others prize
The silver moon's enamour'd beam
The sun was sunk beneath the hill
The streams that wind amid the hills
The world was hush'd and nature lay
The wretch condemn'd with life to part
Think not my love when secret grief

Thou canst not boast of fortune's store
Thou sweetest minstrel of the grove
Though cruel you seem to my pain
Though I am young and cannot tell
Though time has not wreathed
Thou art lovelier than the coming
Thyrsis, unjustly you complain

"Tis evening, my sweet

"Tis mirth that fills the veins with blood

"Tis not your saying that you love

"Tis not the liquid brightness of those eyes

To all you ladies now at land

To be gazing on those charms

To charming Celia's arms I flew

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb

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To Fanny fair could I impart

To the brook and the willow that heard him complain

'Twas on a summer's evening

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V.

Vainly now ye strive to charm me
Vulcan contrive me such a cap

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127

W.

We all to conquering beauty bow
We twa hae fish'd the Kale sae clear
Welcome, welcome, do I sing
What is war and all its joys
What just excuse had aged Time
What state of life can be so blest
Whence comes my love? O heart disclose
When daisies pied, and violets blue
When, dearest beauty, thou shalt pay
When Delia on the plain appears
When first, in all thy youthful charms
When first I saw thee graceful move
When first upon your tender cheek
When forc'd to quit his native land
When icicles hang by the wall
When innocence and beauty meet
When love with unconfined wings

When lovely woman stoops to folly

When Phoebus heard Ianthe sing

When Phillis watch'd her harmless sheep

When sable night, each drooping plant restoring

When thy beauty appears

Wherever I am, and whatever I do

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With an honest old friend and a merry old song

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Woodmen, shepherds, come away

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Wrong not sweet mistress of my heart

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LONDON: PRINTED BY W. NICOL, 51, PALL MALL.