MUSIC OF THE GROVE. 245 



Who were but borne 

 Just as the modest morne 

 Teem'd her refreshing dew ? 

 Alas, you have not known that shower, 

 That marres a flower, 

 Nor felt th' unkind 

 Breath of a blasting wind, 

 Nor are ye worne with yeares ; 



Or warpt, as we, 

 Who think it strange to see, 

 Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, 

 To speak by teares before ye have a tongue. 



Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known 

 The reason why 

 Ye droop and weep, 

 Is it for want of sleep, 

 Or childish lullabie? 

 Or that ye have not seen as yet 

 The violet ? 

 Or brought a kisse 

 From that sweet-heart to this ? 

 No, no, this sorrow shown 



By your teares shed 

 Wo'd have this lecture read 

 That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, 

 Conceived with grief are, and with teares brought forth. 



