Poem 4

Thirsis, a young and amorous swain,Saw two, the beauties of the plain,Who both his heart subdue:Gay Cælia's eyes were dazzling fair,

Sabina's easy shape and airWith softer magic drew.

He haunts the stream, he haunts the grove,Lives in a fond romance of love,And seems for each to die;Till each a little spiteful grown,Sabina Cælia's shape ran down,And she Sabina's eye.

Their envy made the shepherd findThose eyes, which love could only blind;So set the lover free:No more he haunts the grove or stream,Or with a true-love knot and nameEngraves a wounded tree.

Ah Cælia! sly Sabina cried,Though neither love, we're both denied;Now to support the sex's pride,Let either fix the dart.Poor girl! says Cælia, say no more;For should the swain but one adore,That spite which broke his chains before,Would break the other's heart.