TO NELLWHEN ATMOFFAT WELL.

TO NELLWHEN ATMOFFAT WELL.

ONthe delightful banks of Mein,The muse laments in pensive strain;The nymphs assembl’d on the green,Of Nelly’s absence all complain.Our rural swains no joys can find,But still in pensive silence mourn;With heads upon the turf reclin’dThey sigh, and wish your swift return.Oft have they curs’d fair Moffat town,With all the virtues of the Well;The sprightly Beau, and rustic clown,Of Nelly’s charms delight to tell.Dear maid, it is for you alone,They spend whole days and nights in sighs;And will you disregard their moan,And all their plaintive notes despise?’Tis Autumn now, the fertile field,Rich Ceres decks with yellow grain;With joy we would our sickles wield,If Nelly deign’d to grace the plain.Come now and of our labours share;None better can that weapon ply;O mitigate Philander’s care,Whose toil seems less when you are nigh.Once more, dear Nell, I’d wish to seeYou cheerful join the rural throng;Your presence would enhance our glee,And sweetly animate my song.

ONthe delightful banks of Mein,The muse laments in pensive strain;The nymphs assembl’d on the green,Of Nelly’s absence all complain.Our rural swains no joys can find,But still in pensive silence mourn;With heads upon the turf reclin’dThey sigh, and wish your swift return.Oft have they curs’d fair Moffat town,With all the virtues of the Well;The sprightly Beau, and rustic clown,Of Nelly’s charms delight to tell.Dear maid, it is for you alone,They spend whole days and nights in sighs;And will you disregard their moan,And all their plaintive notes despise?’Tis Autumn now, the fertile field,Rich Ceres decks with yellow grain;With joy we would our sickles wield,If Nelly deign’d to grace the plain.Come now and of our labours share;None better can that weapon ply;O mitigate Philander’s care,Whose toil seems less when you are nigh.Once more, dear Nell, I’d wish to seeYou cheerful join the rural throng;Your presence would enhance our glee,And sweetly animate my song.

ONthe delightful banks of Mein,The muse laments in pensive strain;The nymphs assembl’d on the green,Of Nelly’s absence all complain.

ONthe delightful banks of Mein,

The muse laments in pensive strain;

The nymphs assembl’d on the green,

Of Nelly’s absence all complain.

Our rural swains no joys can find,But still in pensive silence mourn;With heads upon the turf reclin’dThey sigh, and wish your swift return.

Our rural swains no joys can find,

But still in pensive silence mourn;

With heads upon the turf reclin’d

They sigh, and wish your swift return.

Oft have they curs’d fair Moffat town,With all the virtues of the Well;The sprightly Beau, and rustic clown,Of Nelly’s charms delight to tell.

Oft have they curs’d fair Moffat town,

With all the virtues of the Well;

The sprightly Beau, and rustic clown,

Of Nelly’s charms delight to tell.

Dear maid, it is for you alone,They spend whole days and nights in sighs;And will you disregard their moan,And all their plaintive notes despise?

Dear maid, it is for you alone,

They spend whole days and nights in sighs;

And will you disregard their moan,

And all their plaintive notes despise?

’Tis Autumn now, the fertile field,Rich Ceres decks with yellow grain;With joy we would our sickles wield,If Nelly deign’d to grace the plain.

’Tis Autumn now, the fertile field,

Rich Ceres decks with yellow grain;

With joy we would our sickles wield,

If Nelly deign’d to grace the plain.

Come now and of our labours share;None better can that weapon ply;O mitigate Philander’s care,Whose toil seems less when you are nigh.

Come now and of our labours share;

None better can that weapon ply;

O mitigate Philander’s care,

Whose toil seems less when you are nigh.

Once more, dear Nell, I’d wish to seeYou cheerful join the rural throng;Your presence would enhance our glee,And sweetly animate my song.

Once more, dear Nell, I’d wish to see

You cheerful join the rural throng;

Your presence would enhance our glee,

And sweetly animate my song.


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