And bid more pleasing prospects rise.
Give to the flowers a livelier hue;
Thy presence makes all nature gay.
O lovely maid! when blest with you,
Each season seems the month of May.
The warblers now, with plaintive note,
Seem to accord with ev’ry sigh;
The shepherds have their songs forgot,
And laid their pipes in silence by.
Since thy retreat, O charming fair!