Through mournful shades and solitary groves,
Fann'd with the sighs of unsuccessful loves,
Wild with despair, young Thirsis strays,
Thinks over all Amira's heav'nly charms,
Thinks he now sees her in another's arms;
Then at some willow's feet himself he lays,
The loveliest, most unhappy swain,
And thus to the wild woods he does complain.

How art thou chang'd, O Thirsis, since the time
That thou could'st love and hope without a crime,
When nature's pride, and earth's delight,
As through her shady evening walk she pass'd,
And a bright day did all around her cast,
Could see (nor be offended at the sight)
The sighing, melting, wishing swain,
That now must never dare to wish again.

Riches and titles, why should they prevail,
When duty, love and adoration fail?
Lovely Amira! could'st thou prize
The empty noise that a fine title makes,
Or the vile trash that with the vulgar takes,
Before a heart that sighs for thee, and dies?
Be not unkind, but pity the poor swain
Your rigour kills, not triumph o'er the slain.