The
CHARMS
of
ANTHONY
.
YE
Swains
,
attend
;
let
ev'ry
Nymph
be
near
;
Be
still
,
ye
Rivers
,
that
the
Swains
may
hear
:
Ye
Winds
,
be
calm
,
and
brush
with
softer
Wing
;
We
mean
the
Charms
of
Anthony
to
sing
;
See
all
around
the
list'ning
Shepherds
throng
;
O
help
,
ye
Sisters
of
immortal
Song
.
LUCY
.
Sing
,
Phebe
,
sing
what
Shepherd
rules
the
Plain
,
Young
Colin's
Envy
,
and
Aminda's
Pain
:
Whom
none
can
rival
when
he
mows
the
Field
,
And
to
whose
Flute
the
Nightingale
must
yield
.
PHEBE
.
'Tis
Anthony
—
'tis
he
deserves
the
Lay
,
As
mild
as
Ev'ning
,
and
as
Morning
gay
;
Not
the
fresh
Blooms
on
yonder
Codling-tree
,
Nor
the
white
Hawthorn
half
so
fair
as
he
;
Nor
the
young
Daisy
dress'd
in
Morning
Dew
;
Nor
the
Pea
Blossom
wears
a
brighter
Hue
.
LUCY
.
None
knows
like
him
to
strew
the
wheaten
Grain
,
Or
drive
the
Plough-share
o'er
the
fertile
Plain
;
To
raise
the
Sheaves
,
or
reap
the
waving
Corn
,
Or
mow
brown
Stubble
in
the
early
Morn
.
PHEBE
.
How
mild
the
Youth
,
when
on
a
sultry
Day
In
yonder
Vale
we
turn'd
the
fragrant
Hay
:
How
on
his
Voice
the
list'ning
Shepherds
hung
,
Not
tuneful
Stella
half
so
sweetly
sung
.
LUCY
.
Whether
he
binds
the
Sheaf
in
twisted
Band
,
Or
turns
the
Pitch-fork
on
his
nimble
Hand
;
He's
sure
to
win
a
Glance
from
ev'ry
Eye
,
While
clumsy
Colin
stands
neglected
by
.
PHEBE
.
His
curling
Locks
by
far
more
lovely
shew
,
Than
the
white
Wig
on
Squire
Fopling's
Brow
;
And
when
the
Shepherd
on
a
rainy
Day
,
Weaves
for
his
Hat
a
Wisp
of
flow'ry
Hay
,
The
scarlet
Feather
not
so
gay
appears
,
Which
on
his
Crown
Sir
Ambrose
Fino
wears
.
LUCY
.
For
Anthony
Meriah
leaves
her
Cow
,
And
stands
to
gape
at
him
upon
the
Mow
:
While
he
(
for
who
but
must
that
Wench
despise
?
)
Throws
Straws
and
Cobwebs
on
her
staring
Eyes
.
PHEBE
.
To
the
Back-door
I
saw
proud
Lydia
hie
,
To
see
the
Team
with
Anthony
go
by
;
He
slily
laugh'd
,
and
turn'd
him
from
the
Door
,
I
thought
the
Damsel
would
have
spoke
no
more
.
LUCY
.
Me
once
he
met
,
'twas
when
from
yonder
Vale
,
Each
Morn
I
brought
the
heavy
milking
Pail
:
He
took
it
from
my
Head
,
and
with
a
Smile
Reach'd
out
his
Hand
,
and
help'd
me
o'er
the
Stile
.
PHEBE
.
As
I
was
dancing
late
amongst
the
Crew
,
A
yellow
Pippin
o'er
my
Head
he
threw
:
Sue
bit
her
Lips
,
and
Barbaretta
frown'd
;
And
Phillis
look'd
as
tho'
she
wou'd
have
swoon'd
.
Thus
sung
the
Maids
till
Colinet
came
by
,
And
Rodrigo
from
weeding
of
the
Rye
;
Each
took
his
Lass
,
and
sped
'em
to
the
Town
,
To
drink
cool
Cider
at
the
Hare
and
Hound
:
The
Damsels
simper
like
the
sparkling
Beer
,
And
Colin
shines
till
Anthony
is
near
.