Invitation, An

by John Cunningham

John Cunningham

Come , Daphne! as the widow'd turtle true,
Foremost in grief, conduct the mournful crew!
Come, Delia! beauteous as the new-born spring,
With song more soft than raptur'd angels sing:
Let Thyrsis in the bloom of summer's pride
With folded arms walk pensive by her side.
Clarinda! come, like rosy morning fair,
Thy form as beauteous as thy heart's sincere;
On her shall Cimon gaze with rude delight,
Till polish'd by her charms he grows polite.
Dorinda next — her gay good humour fled,
With silent steps and grief-dejected head!
Palemon! see, his tuneless harp unstrung
Is on the willow-boughs neglected hung!
Come, Caelia! sigh'd for by unnumber'd swains:
Rosetta! pride of the extended plains:
With Phillis, whose unripen'd charms display
A dawn that promises the future day.
With cypress crown'd, to Weston's groves repair;
The conscious shades shall witness our despair:
To vales, and lawns, and woodlands, late so gay,
Where in sweet converse we were wont to stray,
The joys we've lost in plaintive numbers tell,
And bid the social seat a long farewell!





Last updated September 05, 2017