Beneath a plaintain's shade, all day, His careless limbs see WALLER lay! Love winds the strings, improves his vein, And list'ning deer have caught his pain: But, while the shining laurels spread, No am'rous myrtles deck his head; And what, with SACHARISSA'S name, He lost in love, he gain'd in fame. A doubtful good! a forceful choice! Which most, does Love, or Fame, rejoice?
