Went out to take the Air;
And on the Rosy Morning Feast,
He met Ophelia there.
A while he gaz'd, a while survey'd
Her Shape and every part;
But as his Eyes run o'er the Maid,
Hers reach'd his little Heart.
His Quiver straight and Bow he took,
And bent it for a flight;
And then by chance she cast a look,