Our rustic nymphs the beau and scholar prize;
Unletter’d swains and ploughmen coarse they slight,
For those who dress, and amorous scrolls indite.
For
Lucy Collins
happier days had been,
Had Footman Daniel scorn’d his native green,
Or when he came an idle coxcomb down,
Had he his love reserved for lass in town;
To Stephen Hill she then had pledged her truth, -