Or tell a short tale of a dog and a fiddle.
But, since this vile Cupid has got in my brain,
I beg of the gods to assist in my strain.
And whatever my subject, the fancy still roves,
And sings of hearts, raptures, flames, sorrows, and loves.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
THE WISH.
[Woodbridge, about 1774.]
My Mira, shepherds, is as fair