That Sensibility would bring to view,
When Love he mention'd;— - Love, and Honour true,
But Phoebe still was shy; and wish'd to know
More of the honest Youth, whose manly brow
She verily believ'd was Truth's own throne,
And all his words as artless as her own;
Most true she judg'd; yet, long the Youth forbore
Divulging where, and how, he liv'd before;
And seem'd to strive his History to hide,
Till fair Esteem enlisted on his side.
The Miller saw, and mention'd, in his prajse,
The prompt fidelity of all his ways;
Till in a vacant hour, the Dinner done,
One day he jokjng cried,‘ Come here, my Son!
‘ Tis pity that so good a Lad as you
Beneath my roof should bring disorders new!
But here's my Phoebe,— once so light and airy,
She'd trip along the passage like a Fairy,—