SYLVIA AND ARMEDA. Janet Little (later Richmond) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T126549 Little, Janet, 1759-1813. The Poetical Works of Janet Little, the Scotch Milkmaid. Air Printed by John & Peter Wilson 1792 pp. [147]-149.

This e-text is part of the Works section of the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

XML created for the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

Typography, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation have been cautiously modernized. The source of the text is given and all significant editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. This text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.

Library of Congress Name Authority File (LCNAF) text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center; text-align: right; text-align: left; display: inline font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;
SYLVIA AND ARMEDA . ARMEDA . WHY dost thou Sylvia pensive sit ? Why hangs that cloud upon thy brow ? Oft hast thou cheer'd us by thy wit , Why thus reserv'd and sullen now ? Hast thou thy little lap-dog lost ? Can Celia's dress excite envy ? Is Flavia now the fav'rite toast , Or dost thou for a lover sigh ? SYLVIA . Be Flavia still the toast of beaux ; Such trifles ne'er could give me pain : But know the cause of all my woes , The dear Alonzo's left the plain . His music oft has charm'd the grove ; So soft his pipe , so sweet his air : None heard , but felt the power of love , 'Mong all the nymphs assembl'd there . Not Philomel's delightful strain Could such extatic joys impart , As did thy notes , O darling swain ! Which well can cheer the anxious heart . His count'nance as Aurora bright , His smiles gave joy to all around : In virtue , wit , and all that's right , Alonzo's equal ne'er was found . To Anna's banks , alas ! he's gone ; To Eccles fam'd for maidens fair ; And , to augment my grievous moan , I dread some pow'rful rival there . ARMEDA . O Sylvia , all your fears are vain ; I've seen the nymphs display their art , To captivate your charming swain ; But none can there engage his heart . Insensible he seems to grow ; Defies the little armed boy : From his lov'd horse , a fatal throw Does more his anxious thoughts employ . Than Cupid's arrows more severe , The wounds he got his cares now prove : Can Sylvia think it strange to hear Alonzo quite forgets to love ? SYLVIA . Forgets to love ! that must not be ; Sure Sylvia would be wretched then . Alonzo , when depriv'd of thee , Rough winter still deforms the plain . O hasten and dispel my fears ! The birds with thee more sweetly sing . O crown with joy revolving years ! Thy presence gives perpetual spring .