Poor GERTRUDE, hid amongst the trees, survey'd
Each ardent youth, each blooming maid;
And as she gaz'd,
Pleasure by slow degrees within her senses steals:
Her eyes, with tears impearl'd, she rais'd,
Her heart each sweet sensation feels;
Lightly her feet the grassy meadows tread,
While music's power deludes her from her cares;
Among the nymphs, by its soft influence led,
Her sympathetic breast their raptures shares.