what poor garments does she appear! But sho embellishes every thing, and nothing can commend her. What! so delicate a frame mado for such a laborious life! homely food! straw her bod! O heavens! she has the thorns, for whom do you preserve the roses! Sleep put a stop to those flattering ideas, but did not banish from him her levely image.
Adelaide felt herself somewhat touched with Fonrose’s youth and comeliness, nor could she help reflecting on tho capricious turns of fortuno. For what end, thought she, has nature endowed this young shepherd with such graces! Alas! those gifts, haply useless in his station of life, might prove a source of misery in a higher station. What is outward form! what is beauty! wretched as I am, is it for me to fix their value? This reflection imbittered the little rising pleasure she had indulged. Sho reproached herself for having yielded to it, and resolved never to give way te it again.
Next day, Fonrose imagined that she affected to avoid his coming near her. He was cast down at the very thought. Does she suspect my disguise? Have I discovered myself? These uncertainties perplexed his mind. His hautboy was neglected. Adelaide was not far distant, but could have heard the sounds, had he played upon it. She could not guess the meaning of its silence, and began to sing, in her old melodious strains,—
Ye pretty birds, whose pensive notes
My lamentations join;
Ah! what avails your warbling throats,
Can they soothe woes like mine!
All seem around to share my grief,
As it to assuage my pain;
But mine admits of no relief,
And comfort speaks in vain.
Fonrose, moved to his inmost soul with her complaining, so melodieusly expressed, could not refrain from taking up his hautboy. She continued, and he accompanied her sweet voice.
