An Invitation

Come, Daphne, as the widow'd turtle true,
Foremost in grief, conduct the mournful crew;
Come, Delia, beauteous as the new-born spring,
With song more soft than raptur'd angels sing;
Let Thyrsis, in the bloom of summer's pride,
With folded arms, walk pensive by her side;
Clarinda, come, like rosy morning fair,
Thy form as beauteous as thy heart's sincere;
On her shall Cimon gaze with rude delight,
Till polish'd by her charms he grows polite:
Dorinda next—her gay, good humour fled!
With silent steps, and grief-dejected head!
Palemon! see, his tuneless harp unstrung,
Is on the willow boughs neglected hung!
Come Coelia, sigh'd for by unnumber'd swains!
Rosetta, pride of the extended plains!
With Phillis, whose unripen'd charms display
A dawn, that promises the future day.
With cypress crown'd, to Weston's groves repair;
The conscious shades shall witness our despair:
To vales, and lawns, and woodlands, late so gay,
Where in sweet converse we were wont to stray:
The joys we've lost, in plaintive numbers tell,
And bid the social seat a long farewel.