HAIL ! beauteous Spring; thy smiling face
Once made me more than blest,
When Fancy taught me that I held
A place in DAMON 's breast.
He said, he lov'd me passing well;
But why did I believe?
My artless mind did ne'er suggest,
He meant but to deceive.
He kindly pour'd Love's healing balm,
When Grief my bosom swell'd;
'Twas thus he won my honest heart,
By Gratitude impell'd.
Then green-ey'd Jealousy be gone,
Nor cloud with doubts my mind;
For sure the Swain can ne'er prove false,
Who once was true and kind.