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 ( 8 ) He did oblige me every hour, Could I but thankful be ? He ftole my heart!—Con'd I refufe Whate’er he afk’d of me ?

While thus we fpent our time by turns, Betwixt our flocks and play, I envy’d not the faueft dame, Tho’ ne’er fo rich and gay.

Hard fate ! that I fhould baniflh’d be. Gang heavily and mourn, Becaufe I love the kindeft fwain, That ever yet was born.

Adieu, ye Cowden Knows adien! Farewel all pleafures there! Ye gods reftore me to my fwain, Is all I crave or care.

FINIS. Falkirt —T.Johnston Printer.