TO THE SAME, WITH SHENSTONE'S WORKS, AFTER HAVING VISITED THE LEASOWES TOGETHER. BY THE SAME. TO speed the sad moments away, Which by absence seem tedious and slow, Attend, my dear girl, to the lay That Love taught so sweetly to flow. Thro' the regions of quiet and joy, As led by the Muses you stray, Oh, think that your Damon is by, And that such are the words he would say. Such may be the words he might say, But what words can his passion impart? Or how shall he form the soft lay, To express what he feels at his heart? Tho' thy voice, gentle shepherd, was clear, Tho' the bower of Contentment was thine, Yet thy shepherdess was not so fair, Yet thy love was not equal to mine.