Pub. 1760, titled A Song to a girl of ten years old. The text is by Samuel Wesley, the father to John and Charles Wesley.

Lyrics: Samuel Wesley

Ye loves and ye graces so sweet,
That sport on the Tweed and the Tay,
Fly southward my Philly to meet;
She'll play with you all the long day.
Our turf is as verdant and soft,
Our prospect as beautiful springs;
The finches they trill it a-loft,
And melting the nightingale sings.

When heaven looks smiling above,
And Flora her treasure forth pours,
Does Philly abroad never rove?
Say, does she not pick a few flow'rs?
Does she find out the kingcup so gay?
Do cowslips their odours disclose;
Or the violet, sweeter than they,
That only can yield to the rose?

All nature does joyous appear,
And frolic's at Philly's command;
See flies, how they buzz at her ear,
And ladybirds dance on her hand;
See butterflies floating along
With colours to pleasure the fair;
The bees they fly humming a song,
And chirp goes the grasshopper there.

You two-legg'd unfeather'd folk sing;
Lay hold on the fast-flowing time;
Your smooth flowing madrigals bring,
Nor lose the soft hour of her prime.
Melodious, O chant while you may,
Your musical passions unfold;
For she'll be too wise for your lay
Before she is fifteen years old.