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LABOUR IN VAIN.
In search of some lambs from my flocks that had stray d,
One morning I roam d o'er the plain;
But, alas I after all the enquiries I made,
I found it was labour in vain.
Then vex d and fatigu'd, I reclin d on the shade,
And sung how young Colin the swain,
My love to obtain with endearments essay'd,
But he sigh'd, and he sooth'd me in vain.
Ah me silly fool, thus I chid my coy heart,
Who cou'd let him unpitied complain,
And suffer a bosom untainted with art,
To despair, and so labour in vain.
From the copse full of rapture my Colin few light;
Where be lurk d and baa beaad my fond strain;
Now, now, said he, Jenny, my passion requite,
And no more let me labour in vain.
Blushing I gave hand and heart so the youth,
While he thank d me again and again;
And now to deny a return to his truth,
Lackady! it were labour in vain.
