Richard Jago

No bush shall boast in all the grove So fond a mate, so blest a wife.

O fairest of the feather’d train! For whom I sing, for whom I burn, Attend with pity to my strain, And grant my love a kind return.

With leaden foot Time creeps along While Delia is away: With her, nor plaintive was the song, Nor tedious was the day.Ah, envious Pow’r! reverse my doom; Now double thy career, Strain ev’ry nerve, stretch ev’ry plume,