Classic Poem

Willy my deare, that late by Haddam sitting,
By little Haddam , in those private shades,
Unto thy fancie thousand pleasures fitting,
With dainty Nymphs in those retired glades,
Didst spend thy time; (time that too quickly fades)
Ah! much I fear, that those so pleasing toyes
Have too much lull'd thy sense and minde in slumbring joyes.

Now art thou come to nearer Maddingly ,
Which with fresh sport and pleasure doth enthrall thee;
There new delights withdraw thy eare, thy eye;
Too much I fear, lest some ill chance befall thee:
Heark, how the Cambridge Muses thence recall thee;
Willy our deare, Willy his time abuses:
But sure thou hast forgot our Chame , and Cambridge Muses.

Return now, Willy ; now at length return thee:
Here thou and I, under the sprouting vine,
By yellow Chame , where no hot ray shall burn thee,
Will sit, and sing among the Muses nine;
And safely cover'd from the scalding shine,
We'l read that Mantuan shepherds sweet complaining
Whom fair Alexis griev'd with his unjust disdaining:

And when we list to lower notes descend,
Heare Thirsil's moan, and Fusca's crueltie:
He cares not now his ragged flock to tend;
Fusca his care, but carelesse enemie:
Hope oft he sees shine in her humble eye;
But soon her angrie words of hope deprives him:
So often dies with love, but love as oft revives him.