[ 3 l ° ] 



m 



The youths with fickles feek the fields, 

 To gather all that Geres yields ; 



The farmer's barns are ftor'd : 

 They tofs about the jovial bowl, 

 While joy enlivens ev'ry foul ; 



The pudding fmoaks the board. 



in. 



Each chufes out his nut-brown fair, 

 A Lucy or a Lydia there, 



To dance away the hours : 

 Some tune the flute, fome found the reed, 

 Like fhepherds on the grafly mead, 



And drefs 'em up with flowers. 



IV. 



O may the golden age return, 



And men with gen'rous ardour burn, 



For fweet retirement's lot ! 

 O may the Mufes all confpire, 

 To light my breaft with genuine fire, 



And fix me in a cot ! 



SOME 



