While stupid mortals fondly hope its stay,
Supinely basking in the transient gleam,
A sudden blast dispels the glimm’ring ray.
Amanda, late the fairest of the throng,
Of all our rural nymphs she was the pride:
I saw, I lov’d, nor did I languish long,
With modest blushes she became my bride.
We then the sweets of social life did prove,
Blest in our lot, nor did we sigh for fame.
A comely boy, the pledge of mutual love,