II. DAPHNE'S Visit. YE birds! for whom I rear'd the grove, With melting lay salute my love: My Daphne with your notes detain: Or I have rear'd my grove in vain. Ye flow'rs before her footsteps rise; Display at once your brightest dyes; That she your opening charms may see: Or what were all your charms to me? Kind Zephyr! brush each fragrant flow'r, And shed its odours round my bow'r: Or never more, O gentle wind, Shall I, from thee, refreshment find, Ye streams! if e'er your banks I lov'd, If e'er your native sounds improv'd, May each soft murmur soothe my fair: Or oh! 'twill deepen my despair. And thou, my grot! whose lonely bounds The melancholy pine surrounds, May Daphne praise thy peaceful gloom; Or thou shalt prove her Damon's tomb.