In Silvia’s love to find a place,
And wonder’d at her scorn.
With bows, and smiles he did his part;
But Oh! ’twas all in vain:
A youth less fine, a youth of Art,
Had talk’d himself into her heart
And wou’d not out again.
Strephon with change of habits press’d,
And urg’d her to admire;
His love alone the other dress’d,