Their notes are cheerful, nor with sighs depress’d;
In concert join and soothe your cares to rest.
ALMEDA.
[No] warblers can give me delight,
How mournful and pensive their strain;
Nought sweet can appear to my sight,
Since Strephon’s forsaken the plain.
With joy I these banks did survey,
With pleasure I’ve por’d on the stream:
Young Strephon then with me did stray,