A Simple Pastoral

AURORA, Lady grey,
Hides her face in blushes;
Budding, blanching May,
Whitens hawthorn bushes.

See the Clouds transparent,
See the Sunshine rising;
London Rakes, I warrant,
Wou'd think this surprizing.

See the Sturdy Swains,
Trenching-ploughs are holding;
Some on pebbly plains,
Last night's pens unfolding.

How the Swine-yards woo?
How the Herds are lowing?
While the Pigeons coo,
Barn-door fowls are crowing.

Here are Flora's dressings,
Air-fill'd perfume here is,
Here Pomona's blessings,
Here the gifts of Ceres.

Hark! the tinkling Rills,
And the bubbling Fountains;
Cascade o'er the hills,
Tumble down the mountains.

See! at welcome Wakes,
Shew-folks Fire-eating;
While, with Ale and Cakes,
Jack his Gill is treating.

Hark! the distant Drum,
Lasses all look frighted;
But, when Soldiers come,
Girls how you're delighted.

Night her shutters closing,
All the Village still is,
Save where, unreposing,
Captain calls on Phillis.

While she lets her Spark in,
Shooting Stars are sailing,
Farmer's Dogs are barking,
Comets dreadful trailing.

For to Scholars thinking,
Omens must be telling;
Whether worlds are sinking,
Or if waists are swelling.

But, my Lads and Lasses,
Mind a friend's advisings,
Let us fill our glasses
To our Falls and Risings.