To Lydia Being Retired Privately into the Country

NOw to the secret Groves is Lydia gone
Stoll'n from us all, meaning to live alone
Among the silent woods, where she may be
From busie servants entertainments free,
And hear the pleasant songsters of the Groves,
With whistling layes resound their growing Loves:
With uncontrouling freedom view the trammells
Of Flora which the fragrant meads inammels,
With pleasure walke and see the crystall brooks,
Catching the sportive fish, with silver hooks.
Conversing with the flowry Napaeae,
Making diversity of flow'rs agree
Bound up together: 'mong the shady trees
Daunce in a Circle, with the Dryades,
Feeding on cleanly, though but homely food,
Esteem'd the only Goddess of the wood.
O how I fear those rural pleasures may
Entice her there to make a tedious stay,
But I with vows will Frosty Hyems move,
To hast the ruines of the leavy grove;
Pray cold mout'h Boreas kiss her tender cheek,
To make her shelter in the town to seek,
Where conversation, and warm fires do bring
Though frost without doors lies; within a spring.