FLORIMELIA, the Second PASTORAL. Mary Leapor 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. T127827 p. 413 K101776.000 Leapor, Mrs. (Mary), 1722-1746. Poems upon several occasions: By Mrs. Leapor of Brackley in Northamptonshire. London printed: and sold by J. Roberts 1748 pp. 187-192. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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FLORIMELIA , the Second PASTORAL . By Mr. NEWTON , AS Florimelia watch'd her snowy Fold , Soft Florimelia with her Locks of Gold , Low in a Vale beneath a spreading Shade , Two ruddy Youths that lov'd the beauteous Maid , To please the Fair thus form'd the rival Song , While the Herds listen'd to each tuneful Tongue . PHILASTER . This Morn I wander'd through a poplar Grove , Where a lone Turtle mourn'd her absent Love ; With pensive Coo she well express'd her Woe , Lull'd by her Voice the Brooks more gently flow ; When lo the Partner of her Nest drew nigh With hov'ring Wings : And bid her Sorrows fly . All sprightly now with brisker Note she sings , Prunes her soft Breast , and spreads her joyful Wings . No more the Grove is Witness to her Woe , Such are the Joys that faithful Lovers know . CHROMIS . As yester'-even , while my Sheep did feed On a soft Bank , I tun'd my Oaten Reed ; 'Twas there a single Violet I spy'd , That breath'd its Odours , droop'd its Head , and dy'd ; When from the Root a gay Companion grew , Fair as the first and fresh as Morning Dew : Whose fragrant Leaves perfum'd the bord'ring Plain ; Then did the first its former Beauties gain , Pleas'd with each other side by side they grow , Such are the Joys that faithful Lovers know . PHILASTER . As sweet as was the Violet is my Love . CHROMIS . And I as constant as the Turtle-Dove . PHILASTER . Soft are the Murmurs of a southern Wind , And the Complainings of a love-sick Mind ; Soft are the Breathings of an Infant's Sleep , But she is softer than her harmless Sheep . CHROMIS . Sweet are the Gales that meet the rosy Morn , Sweet are the Flow'rs that yonder Meads adorn ; Sweet are the Banks on which my Lambkins play , But my lov'd Nymph is sweet as early Day . PHILASTER . Where walks my Love — there op'ning Roses bloom , And yellow Cowslips shed a choice Perfume ; When she is gone the op'ning Roses fade , The Sun himself laments the absent Maid . CHROMIS . When smiles my Love , then smile the Groves below ; And the clear Skies with brighter Lustre glow : But when she frowns , those Groves are glad no more , And the Sky lowers that was bright before . PHILASTER . While we prefer the Spring to Winter Storms , Or goodly Cedars to unseemly Thorns ; While Maples keep below the lofty Pine , Shall my lov'd Nymph before her Sisters shine ? CHROMIS . As we prefer the Peacock to the Crow , As Maidens fairer than their Mothers show ; And as my Voice above Philaster swells , So my lov'd Nymph each other Nymph excels . PHILASTER . You sung last Night with more melodious Air , As you lay plaiting Cloe's yellow Hair ; While the shrill Pipe her slender Fingers ply'd , The Pipe you gave her , and your Heart beside . CHROMIS . 'Twas you I saw beneath a maple Shade ; With blubber'd Cheeks you curs'd the cruel Maid , Who broke your Cypress Bowl on yonder Plain , And sent the Willow to her slighted Swain . PHILASTER . ' Tell me at midnight where do Mandrakes groan , And Blood fall dropping from the darkned Moon : Tell this , and I shall for thy Learning yield , A coal-black Lamb that sports in yonder Field . CHROMIS . Tell me , where Oaks have tender Medlars bore , And Shrubs yield Apples that were Crabs before ; And for thy Knowledge I shall not refuse To give the best of all my speckled Ewes . Thus sung the Shepherds while the list'ning Maid , Prais'd both their Songs , and thus their Songs repaid ; Behold this lovely Pine-apple , she cry'd ; And this Twin-chesnut once my chiefest Pride , These long were mine , and these I give to you ; To both a Prize , a Prize to both is due . Now nightly Vapours taint the colder Air , They part the Flocks , and to the Folds repair ; And the black Clouds forbid their longer Stay , Their Feet unwilling tread their destin'd Way At once : Farewel too lovely Nymphs , they cry , And on the Virgin cast a parting Eye .