Young D----h was the fairest on the plain, Admir’d and lov’d by ev’ry wond’ring swain. Her charms exterior might a hero bind; But ah! the beauty that adorns her mind, To paint does far exceed my Muse’s skill. To you, dear T-- I’ll now resign the quill.” Says T--, “On her the Graces seem to wait; Her form, how fair! enchanting is her gait. Her youthful charms, no tongue could e’er express; Nor does her absence render them the less. The soft impression with me still remains; I’m captive, yet I glory in my chains. With fond delight I retrospect the day, When we to E----n took our way, With hearts elate, to view the Scottish fair, Lov’d D----h sweeten’d all the pleasures there. Blest with her company upon the road, How charming seem’d each rugged path we trode? Nor could the Scottish fair such charms display; My darling reign’d the empress of the day. But ah! reflection animates my pain, Such happy days I’ll ne’er behold again. Alas! I languish now in deep despair; O that I could forget my absent fair!” While these two youths rehears’d their plaintive tale, A third came stalking o’er a distant dale: R----n his name, whose anxious looks did show, His beating bosom much oppress’d with wo. Of J----y’s charms, he in soft concert sung; J----y the gay, the beauteous, and the young; She who of late, with parson F----r stay’d, In the low station of a dairy-maid. Yet there it was she gain’d young R----n’s heart, And in her absence nought can ease his smart. O hapless lads! can nought allay your pain, Till these two charming maids return again? Is there none else can ease your tortur’d mind? None else so fair, so virt’ous and so kind? So may you think, and thus in sighs lament, Till Hymen’s fetters make you all repent. Better bewail an absent love for life, Than be tormented by a fractious wife. TO _A LADY_ WHO SENT THE AUTHOR SOME PAPER WITH A READING OF SILLAR’S POEMS. Dear madam, with joy I read over your letter; Your kindness still tends to confirm me your debtor; But can’t think of payment, the sum is so large, Tho’ farthings for guineas could buy my discharge. But, madam, the Muses are fled far away, They deem it disgrace with a milkmaid to stay. Let them go if they will, I would scorn to pursue, And can, without sighing, subscribe an adieu. Their trifling mock visits, to many so dear, Is the only disaster on earth I now fear. Sure Sillar much better had banish’d them thence, Than wrote in despite of good manners and sense: With two or three more, whose pretensions to fame Are slight as the bubble that bursts on the stream. And lest with such dunces as these I be number’d, The talk I will drop, nor with verse be incumber’d; Tho’ pen, ink and paper, are by me in store, O madam excuse, for I ne’er shall write more. _FINIS._ Transcriber's Notes Except where noted below, no changes have been made to the original printed edition, thus retaining non-standard or inconsistent spelling or use of punctuation.