waits, and tells _Melinda_ he will not depart without something for
his lord, to entertain him till the happy hour. The rustic pleas'd me
with the concern he had for my _Philander_; oh my charming brother,
you have an art to tame even savages, a tongue that would charm and
engage wildness itself, to softness and gentleness, and give the rough
unthinking, love; 'tis a tedious time to-night, how shall I pass the
hours?

* * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA.

Say, fond love, whither wilt thou lead me? Thou hast brought me from
the noisy hurries of the town, to charming solitude; from crowded
cabals, where mighty things are resolving, to lonely groves; to thy
own abodes where thou dwell'st; gay and pleas'd among the rural swains
in shady homely cottages; thou hast brought me to a grove of flowers,
to the brink of purling streams, where thou hast laid me down to
contemplate on _Sylvia_, to think my tedious hours away in the softest
imagination a soul inspir'd by love can conceive, to increase my
passion by every thing I behold; for every sound that meets the sense
is thy proper music, oh love, and every thing inspires thy dictates;
the winds around me blow soft, and mixing with wanton boughs,
continually play and kiss; while those, like a coy maid in love,
resist, and comply by turns; they, like a ravish'd vigorous lover,
rush on with a transported violence, rudely embracing their
spring-dress'd mistress, ruffling her native order; while the pretty
birds on the dancing branches incessantly make love; upbraiding duller
man with his defective want of fire: man, the lord of all! He to be
stinted in the most valuable joy of life; is it not pity? Here is no