12
FIRST PASTORAL.
CUDDY. Across the fallen oak the plank I laid, And my self pois'd against the tott'ring maid; High leapt the plank; adown Buxoma fell: I spy'd—But faithful sweethearts never tell, 110
LOBBIN CLOUT. This riddle, Cuddy, if thou can'st, explain, This wily riddle puzzles ev'ry swain. [1]What flower is that which bears the virgin's name, The richest metal joined with the same?
CUDDY. Answer, thou carl, and judge this riddle right,I'll frankly own thee for a cunning wight. 116[2]What flow'r is that which royal honour craves,[3]Adjoin the virgin, and 'tis strown on graves.
CLODDIPOLE. Forbear, contending louts, give o'er your strains, An oaken staff each merits for his pains.[4] 120 But see the sun-beams bright to labour warn,And gild the thatch of goodman Hodges' barn. Your herds for want of water stand a-dry, They're weary of your song's ——— and so am I.
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TUESDAY
