APOLLO
and
DAPHNE
.
An
EPIGRAM
.
WHEN
Phoebus
was
am'rous
,
and
long'd
to
be
rude
,
Miss
Daphne
cry'd
Pish
!
and
ran
swift
to
the
wood
,
And
rather
than
do
such
a
naughty
affair
,
She
became
a
fine
laurel
to
deck
the
God's
hair
.
The
nymph
was
,
no
doubt
,
of
a
cold
constitution
;
For
sure
to
turn
tree
was
an
odd
resolution
!
Yet
in
this
she
behav'd
like
a
true
modern
spouse
,
For
she
fled
from
his
arms
to
distinguish
his
brows
.