With our locks and garments flowing, Go, belov'd Adonis, go Bless us then, Adonis dear; Gor. Praxinoe, what a blessed thing it is ! What a wise creature! what a fine sweet voice! 'Tis time to go though; for there's Dioclides Has not yet had his dinner; and you'd best Not come before him when he wants it much. Farewell, Adonis dear; and come again. DEDICATION OF A RURAL SPOT AND ALTAR. These roses with the dew on, and this fine THE PRAYER IN THE BOWER. TURNING down, goatherd, by the oaks, you'll see And vernal blackbirds through the sprays |