Classic Poem

Go, plaintive sounds! and to the fair
My secret wounds impart,
Tell all I hope, tell all I fear,
Each motion in my heart.

But she, methinks, is list'ning now
To some enchanting strain,
The smile that triumphs o'er her brow
Seems not to heed my pain.

Yes, plaintive sounds, yet, yet delay,
Howe'er my love repine,
Let that gay minute pass away,
The next perhaps is thine.

Yes, plaintive sounds, no longer crost,
Your griefs shall soon be o'er,
Her cheek undimpled now, has lost
The smile it lately wore.

Yes, plaintive sounds, she now is yours,
'Tis now your time to move;
Essay to soften all her powers,
And be that softness, love.

Cease, plaintive sounds, your task is done,
That anxious tender air
Proves o'er her heart the conquest won,
I see you melting there.

Return, ye smiles, return again,
Return each sprightly grace,
I yield up to your charming reign,
All that enchanting face.

I take no outward shew amiss,
Rove where they will, her eyes,
Still let her smiles each shepherd bless,
So she but hear my sighs.