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While musing thus with contemplation fed, And thousand fancies buzzing in my brain, The sweet tongu'd Philomel percht ore my head, And chanted forth a most melodious strain, Which rapt me so with wonder and delight, I judg'd my hearing better then my sight, And wisht me wings with her awhile to take my flight.
I have a third of colour white On whom I plac'd no small delight; Coupled with mate loving and true, Hath also bid her Dam adieu; And where Aurora first appears, She now hath percht, to spend her years; One to the Academy flew To chat among that learned crew; Ambition moves still in his breast That he might chant above the rest, Striving for more than to do well, That nightingales he might excell.
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