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 Excelling ſuch pleaſure as this,

Where no ſorrow comes near,

Nor grief interfere

To fully our meaſure of bliſs.



OUNG Colin having much to ſay,

in ſecret to a maid,

Perſuaded her to leave the hay,

and ſeek the embow'ring ſhade,

When after roving with his mate,

where none cou'd hear or ſee,

Upon the velvet ground they ſat,

under the green wood tree.

Your charms, ſays Colin, fire my breaſt,

what muſt I for them give?

No night nor day can I have reſt,

I can't without you live;

My herds, my flocks, my all is thine,

cou'd you and I agree,

Oh! wou'd you to my wiſh incline,

under the green wood tree.

All this but ſerv'd to fire his mind,

ſhe knew not what to do,

'Till to his ſuit ſhe wou'd be kind,

he would not let her go:

His love, his wealth, the youth diſplay'd,

no longer coy was ſhe,

To church he led the bluſhing maid,

from under the green wood tree.