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MATTY.
While Phœbus reposes in Thetis's bosom,
While white thro' the branches the moonlight is seen;
Here, lonely, I rove, near the old hawthorn's blossom,
To meet wi' my Matty, and stray o'er the green.
While white thro' the branches the moonlight is seen;
Here, lonely, I rove, near the old hawthorn's blossom,
To meet wi' my Matty, and stray o'er the green.
Nor hardship, nor care now my bosom harasses,
My moments, from fame and its nonsense are free;
Ambition I leave to the folly of asses,
For Matty is fame and ambition to me.
My moments, from fame and its nonsense are free;
Ambition I leave to the folly of asses,
For Matty is fame and ambition to me.
The great may exclaim, and with fury enclose me,
But fools, or the rabble, shall growl now in vain;
Their madness, their malice shall ne'er discompose me,
Since Matty commends and delights iu my strain.
But fools, or the rabble, shall growl now in vain;
Their madness, their malice shall ne'er discompose me,
Since Matty commends and delights iu my strain.
And kind is the lovely, the charming young creature,
Sweet beauty and innocence smile in her cheek;
In raptures I wander and gaz'd on each feature,
My bosom unable its transports to speak.
Sweet beauty and innocence smile in her cheek;
In raptures I wander and gaz'd on each feature,
My bosom unable its transports to speak.
