The Bergh Family Records

When Lycideas the tender swain,
I sought this morning quite in vain,
I ask'd -- was told; he's gone t'Amynt,
This day, to congrat'late his friend,
Then rec'llecting I had heard say:
March 'leventh was Amynt's birth-day.
I straitway went, besttrid th'old Horse,
Old Pegasus: it's well no worse.

"Immortals, propitious, show'r down, I implore Ys!
The choicest of blessings, on my Friend, do Ye hear me?
Long life and cintentment, health, pleasure, friends many,
Like Lycidas', their friendship, else rather not any.
His bliss next be crown'd with a Nymph of the plain,
In beauty surpassing, yet, in love to her swain!
No turtle-dove able to rival her passion,
Their affection be mut'al, tho' ne'er the fashion!"

Thus I conclude,
Song and prelude;
And hope, in favour,
You'll take, my 'ndeavour.