No purple grapes, thy half-drest vineyards yields:
No primrose nor no violets grace thy beds,
But thorns and thistles lift their prickly heads.
What means this change?

STREPHON

Enquire no more;
When none can heal, 'tis pain to search the sore;
Bright Galatea, in whose matchless face
Sat rural innocence, with heavenly grace;
In whose no less inimitable mind,
With equal light, even distant virtues shin'd;
Chaste without pride, and charming without art,
Honour the tyrant of her tender heart:
Fair goddess of these fields, who for our sports,
Though she might well become, neglected courts:
Belov'd of all, and loving me alone,
Is from my sight, I fear, for ever gone.

THIRSIS.

Thy case indeed is pitiful, but yet
Thou on thy loss too great a price dost set.
Women like days are, Strephon, some be far
More bright and glorious than others are:
Yet none so gay, so temperate, so clear,
But that the like adorn the rowling year,
Pleasures imparted to a friend, increase,
Perhaps divided sorrow may grow less.