A lover's complaint in four double-quatrain stanzas, not signed. The poet has parted with the fair Sophia, but not without some hope: "She'll think of the grief and concern | That plainly appear'd in my eyes | When I anxiously prest her return; | She mark'd both my looks and my sighs." This poem is paired with another anonymous elegy on the same theme in the same measure on the same page.
What Shepherd or Nymph of the Grove
Can blame me for dropping a tear?
Since she whom alone I can love,
My Sophia, my fav'rite's not here.
Alas! since she quitted the plain,
No Swain's so dejected as I;
Will she absent forever remain?
Shall I live but to sorrow and sigh?
How pleasing and sweet was her song!
(On her praise I forever could dwell)
Not one could be found in the throng
Who in aught could Sophia excell.
And tender and kind was her heart;
Soft pity repos'd in her breast;
The birds from their young she'd ne'er part,
Nor ever would rifle their nest.
And sure she some pity will feel
For a Swain that is constant and true
(Her emotions she could not conceal
When I tenderly bade her adieu):
She'll think of the grief and concern
That plainly appear'd in my eyes
When I anxiously prest her return;
She mark'd both my looks and my sighs.
Then I will not indulge to despair,
Nor doubt of her fondness for me,
But strive to forget all my care,
And hope my dear Charmer to see.
I'd press her quite close to my heart,
With rapture, with joy, and delight;
No more shall my Fair-one depart,
I'll never be depriv'd of her sight.