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Orpheus Caledonius.
Tweed's Murmurs fhould lull her to reft j
Kind Nature indulging my Blifs,
To relieve the fof't Pains of my Breaft,
Yd (leal an ambrofial Kils.
'Tis flie does the Virgins excell.
No Beauty with her may compare j
Love*s Graces all round her do dwell.
She's faireft where thoufands are fair.
Say, Charmer, where do thy Flocks ftray!
Oh ! tell me at Noon where they feed 5
Shall I feek them on fweet winding Tay,
Or the pleafanter Banks of the Tweed?
33
Vol.!. p XVI^

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