Down in a valley as Alexis trips,
Daphne sat sweetly sleeping.
Soon as the wanton touch-d her ruddy lips,
She nicely falls aweeping.
The wag full softly lifts her,
And to and fro he sifts her:
But when nor sighs, Ah! nor kisses mov-d her pity,
Nor sighs could move her pity,
Nor tears could move her pity,
With plaints he warbles forth this mournful ditty.