That lives on earth, and loved her most dear.
HOB. O! careful Colin, I lament thy case;
Thy tears would make the hardest flint to flow!
Ah! faithless Rosalind, and void of grace,
That art the root of all this ruthful woe!
But now is time, I guess, homeward to go:
Then rise, ye blessed flocks! and home apace,
Lest night with stealing steps do you foreslow,
And wet your tender lambs that by you trace.
COLIN'S EMBLEME.
Gia speme spenta.
(Already hope is lost.)