COLINETTA
.
TWAS
when
the
Fields
had
shed
their
golden
Grain
.
And
burning
Suns
had
sear'd
the
russet
Plain
;
No
more
the
Rose
nor
Hyacinth
were
seen
,
Nor
yellow
Cowslip
on
the
tufted
Green
:
But
the
rude
Thistle
rear'd
its
hoary
Crown
,
And
the
ripe
Nettle
shew'd
an
irksom
Brown
.
In
mournful
Plight
the
tarnish'd
Groves
appear
,
And
Nature
weeps
for
the
declining
Year
.
The
Sun
too
quickly
reach'd
the
western
Sky
,
And
rising
Vapours
hid
his
ev'ning
Eye
:
Autumnal
Threads
around
the
Branches
flew
,
While
the
dry
Stubble
drank
the
falling
Dew
.
In
this
sick
Season
,
at
the
close
of
Day
,
On
Lydia's
Lap
pale
Colinetta
lay
;
Whose
sallow
Cheeks
had
lost
their
rosy
Dye
,
The
Sparkles
languish'd
in
her
closing
Eye
.
Parch'd
were
those
Lips
whence
Musick
us'd
to
flow
,
Nor
more
the
Flute
her
weary
Fingers
know
,
Yet
thrice
to
raise
her
feeble
Voice
she
try'd
,
Thrice
on
her
Tongue
the
fainting
Numbers
dy'd
;
At
last
reviv'd
,
on
Lydia's
Neck
she
hung
,
And
like
the
Swan
expiring
thus
she
sung
.
Farewel
,
ye
Forests
and
delightful
Hills
,
Ye
flow'ry
Meadows
and
ye
crystal
Rills
,
Ye
friendly
Groves
to
whom
we
us'd
to
run
,
And
beg
a
Shelter
from
the
burning
Sun
.
Those
blasted
Shades
all
mournful
now
I
see
,
Who
droop
their
Heads
as
tho'
they
wept
for
me
.
The
pensive
Linnet
has
forgot
to
sing
,
The
Lark
is
silent
till
returning
Spring
.
The
Spring
shall
all
those
wonted
Charms
restore
,
Which
Colinetta
must
behold
no
more
.
Farewel
,
ye
Fields
;
my
native
Fields
,
adieu
;
Whose
fertile
Lays
my
early
Labours
knew
;
Where
,
when
an
Infant
,
I
was
wont
to
stray
,
And
gather
King-cups
at
the
closing
Day
.
How
oft
has
Lydia
told
a
mournful
Tale
,
By
the
clear
Lake
that
shines
in
yonder
Vale
;
When
she
had
done
I
sung
a
chearful
Lay
,
While
the
glad
Goldfinch
listen'd
on
the
Spray
:
Lur'd
by
my
Song
each
jolly
Swain
drew
near
,
And
rosy
Virgins
throng'd
around
to
hear
:
Farewel
,
ye
Swains
;
ye
rosy
Nymphs
,
adieu
:
Tho'
I
(
unwilling
)
leave
the
Streams
and
you
,
Still
may
soft
Musick
bless
your
happy
Shore
,
But
,
Colinetta
,
you
must
hear
no
more
.
O
Lydia
,
thou
,
(
if
wayward
Tongues
shou'd
blame
My
Life
,
and
blot
a
harmless
Maiden's
Name
)
Tell
them
if
e'er
I
found
a
straggling
Ewe
,
Although
the
Owner's
Name
I
hardly
knew
;
I
fed
it
kindly
with
my
Father's
Hay
,
And
gave
it
shelter
at
the
closing
Day
:
I
never
stole
young
Pigeons
from
their
Dams
,
Nor
from
their
Pasture
drove
my
Neighbours
Lambs
:
Nor
set
my
Dog
to
hunt
their
Flocks
away
,
That
mine
might
graze
upon
the
vacant
Lay
.
When
Phillida
by
dancing
won
the
Prize
,
Or
Colin
prais'd
young
Mariana's
Eyes
:
When
Damon
wedded
Urs'la
of
the
Grange
,
My
Cheek
with
Envy
ne'er
was
seen
to
change
:
When-e'er
I
saw
Aminda
cross
the
Plain
,
Or
walk
the
Forest
with
her
darling
Swain
,
I
never
whisper'd
to
a
Stander-by
,
But
hated
Scandal
and
abhorr'd
a
Lye
.
On
Sundays
I
(
as
Sister
Sue
can
tell
)
Was
always
ready
for
the
Sermon-bell
:
I
honour'd
both
the
Teacher
and
the
Day
;
Nor
us'd
to
giggle
when
he
bid
me
pray
:
Then
sure
for
me
there's
something
good
in
Store
,
When
Colinetta
shall
be
seen
no
more
.
When
I
am
gone
,
I
leave
to
Sister
Sue
My
Gown
of
Jersey
,
and
my
Aprons
blue
.
My
studded
Sheep-hook
Phillida
may
take
,
Likewise
my
Hay-fork
and
my
Hazel
Rake
:
My
hoarded
Apples
and
my
winter
Pears
Be
thine
,
O
Lydia
,
to
reward
thy
Cares
.
These
Nuts
that
late
were
pluck'd
from
yonder
Tree
,
And
this
Straw-basket
,
I
bequeath
to
thee
:
That
Basket
did
these
dying
Fingers
weave
:
My
boxen
Flute
to
Corydon
I
leave
,
So
shall
it
charm
the
list'ning
Nymphs
around
,
For
none
like
him
can
make
it
sweetly
sound
.
In
our
Churchyard
there
grows
a
spreading
Yew
,
Whose
dark
green
Leaves
distil
a
baneful
Dew
:
Be
those
sad
Branches
o'er
my
Grave
reclin'd
,
And
let
these
Words
be
graven
on
the
Rind
:
"
Mark
,
gentle
Reader
,
—
Underneath
this
Tree
,
"
There
sleeps
a
Maid
,
old
Simon's
Daughter
she
;
"
Thou
too
,
perhaps
,
ere
many
Weeks
be
o'er
,
"
Like
Colinetta
,
shalt
be
seen
no
more
.
Here
ends
the
Maid
—
for
now
the
Seal
of
Death
Clos'd
her
pale
Lips
,
and
stop'd
her
rosy
Breath
.
Her
sinking
Eye-balls
took
their
long
Adieu
,
And
with
a
Sigh
her
harmless
Spirit
flew
.