With timely care I'll sow my little field,
And plant my orchard with it's master's hand,
Nor blush to spread the hay, the hook to wield,
Or range the sheaves along the sunny land.
If late at dusk, while carelessly I roam,
I meet a strolling kid, or bleating lamb,
Under my arm I'll bring the wand'rer home,
And not a little chide it's thoughtless dam.
V.
What joy to hear the tempest howl in vain,
And clasp a fearful mistress to my breast?
Or lull'd to slumber by the beating rain,
Secure and happy sink at last to rest.
VI.
Or if the sun in flaming Leo ride,
By shady rivers indolently stray,
And with my delia walking side by side,
Hear how they murmur, as they glide away.
VII.
What joy to wind along the cool retreat,
To stop and gaze on delia as I go!
To mingle sweet discourse with kisses sweet,
And teach my lovely scholar all I know!
VIII.