Shame not thy friends by petty death like these;
Sure we must grieve at what thou think’st to do,
But spare us blushes for the manner too!”
Then with inviting smiles she turn’d aside, 130
Allay’d his anger, and consoled his pride.
Oft had the fickle fair beheld with scorn
The unhappy man bewilder’d and forlorn;
Then with one softening glance of those bright eyes
Restored his spirit, and dispersed his sighs.
Oft had I seen him on the lea below,