The following little poem was written by JOHN BYRON, a minor English
poet, who died at Manchester, in the year 1763, aged 72. In his
23d year, he wrote the beautiful pastoral of Colin and Phebe, on
which his poetick reputation is principally founded. It appeared in
the eighth volume of the Spectator; and many of your readers will
remember, what has been so generally known and admired.
My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent,
When Phebe went with me wherever I went;
Ten thousand sweet pleasures I felt in my breast:
Sure never fond shepherd like Colin was blest! &c.
The subjoined extract, it is believed, is not so familiar; and for
that reason, as you must doubtless wish to exclude from your poetick
corner whatever is trite and common-place, whether _professedly_
original, or selected from old or distant writers, it is hoped,
though a small matter, it will not prove altogether unacceptable. I.