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I'd fhun her paths, upon thy mouth to dwell,

More sweet than powder which the merchants sell. Espousals are but forms. O lead me hence,
O solace me with kisies pure like thine !

For secret love can never give offence.
Enjoy, ye lords, the wanton concubine.
The spring now calls us forth; come, sister, come, Then hand in hand the loving mates withdraw:
To see the primrose and the daily bloom.

True love is nature unrefirain'd by low. Let ceremony bind the worldly pair;

This tenet all the holy lect allows; Sisters çsteem the brethren's words sincere. So Tabitha took carnell of a spouse.


Ρ Α Ν Τ Η Ε Α.

Thy bosom ne'er a tender thought confeft, LONG had Panthea felt love's secret smart, Sure Itubborn flint has arm'd thy cruel breast; And hope and fear alternate rul'd her heart; But hardest flints are worn by frequent rains, Consenting glances had her flame confest. And the soft drops dissolve their folid veins ; In woman's eyes her very soul's expreft.

While thy relentlets hcart more hard appears, Perjur'd Alexis saw the blushing maid,

And is not soften'd by a ficod of tears. He saw, he swore, he conquer'd, and betray'd. Ah, what is love! Panthea's joys are gone, Another love now calls him from her arms, Her liberry, her peace, her reason, flown! His fickle heart another beauty warms;

And when I view me in the watery glass, Those oaths, oft'whisper'd in Panthea's ears, I find Panthea now, not what she was. He now again to Galatea swears.

As northern winds the new-blown roses blast, Beneath a beech th' abandon'd virgin laid, And on the ground their fading ruins caft; In grateful folitude enjoys the shade ; [Atrains, As fudden blights corrupt the ripen'd grain, There with faint voice me breath'd these moving And of its verdure spoil the mournful plain; While sighing zephyrs shar'd her amorous pains. So hapless love on blocming features preys,

Pale fettled sorrow hangs upon my brow, So haplets love destroys our peaceful days.
Dead arc my charms; Alexis breaks his vow ! Come, gentle sleep, relieve these weary'd eyes,
Think, think, dear shepherd, on the days you all forsi w in thy soft embraces dies :

There, spite of all thy perjur d vows, I find
When I was happy, when my swain was true ; Faithless Alexis languishingiy kind.
Think how thy looks and tongue are form’d to Sometimes he leads me by the mazy stream,

And pleasingly deludes me in my dream;
And think yet more-that all my fault was love. sonetimes he guides me to the secret grove,
Ah, could you view me in this wretched itate, Where all our looks, and all our talk is love!
You might not love me, but you could not hate. Oh, could I thus copiume each tedious day,
Could you behold me in this conscious shade, And in sweet sumbers dream my life away!
Where first thy vows, where firft my love was But sleep, which now no more relieves these eyes,

To my fad soul the dear deceit denies. Worn out with watching, sullen with despair, Why does the sun dart forth its cheerful rays ? And see each eye swell with a gufhing tear; Why do the woods retound with warbling lays ? Could you behold me on this mofly bed,

Why does the role her grateful fragrance yield, From my pale check the lively crimson fled, And yellow cowslips paint the smiling field? Which in my foster hours you oft' have sworn, Why do the freams with murmuring music fow, With rosy beauty far outbluth'd the morn; And why do groves their friendly Made bestow ? Could you untouch'd this wretched object beas, Let sable clouds the cheerful fun deface, And would not loft Panthea claim a tear? (steal, Let mournful filence feize the feather'd race ; You could not, fure-tears from your eyes would No more, ye soses, grateful fragrance yield, And unawares thy tender soul reveal.

Droop, droop, ye cowslips, in the blasted field; Ah no! thy foul with cruelty is fraught, No more, ye streams, with murmuring music No tenderness disturbs thy favage thought ;

flow, Sooner shall tigers spare the trembling lambs, And let not groves a friendly fade below: And wolves with pity hear their bleating dams; With sympathifing grief let nature mourn, Sooner shall vultures from their quarry fly; And never know the youthful spring's return Than falíc Alexis for Panthca ligh.


And fall I never more Alexis see?

Didlt thou not then with oaths thy passion prove,. Then what is spring, or grove, or stream, to me? And with an awful trembling, say--Love? (pain ;

Why sport the skipping lambs on yonder plain ? “ Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my
Why do the birds thcir tuneful voices ftrain? “ For eyes the language of the coul explain.”
Why frisk those heifers in the cooling grove?

How could'st thou thus, ungrateful youth, deTheir happier life is ignorant of love.

ceive? Oh, lead me to some melancholy cave,

How could I thus, unguarded maid, believe? To lall my forrows in a living grave;

Sure thou canst well recal that fatal night, From the dark rock where dashing waters fall,

When subtle love first enter'd at my fight : And creeping ivy hangs the craggy wall ;

When in the dance I was thy partner chose, Where I may waste in tears my hours away,

Gods! what a rapture in my bosom rose ! And never know the seasons or the day?

My trembling hand my sudden joy confess'd, Die, die, Panthea-Ay this hateful grove; My glowing cheeks a wounded heart express'd; For what is life without the swain I love?

My looks spoke love ; while you, with answering

In killing glances made as kind replics.

[faid, Think, Daphnis, think what tender things you AN ELEGY.

Think what confusion all my soul betray'd. Now Phæbus rose, and with his early beams You call'd my graceful presence Cynthia's air; Wak'd Numbering Delia from her pleasing dreams;

And, when I sung, the syrens charm'd your ear: Her wishes by her fancy were supply'd,

My fame, blown up by flattery, stronger grew; And in her sleep the nuptial knot was ty'd. A gale of love in every whisper few.

{" pain; With secret joy the faw the morning ray

Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my Chequer the floor, and through the curtains play; “ For eyes the language of the soul explain.” The happy morn that shall her blifs complete, Whene'er I dress’d, my maid, who knew my And all her rivals' envious hopes defeat.

flame, In haste the rose, forgetful of her prayers,

Cherish'd my passion with thy lovely name;
Flew to the glass, and pra&is'd o'er her airs : Thy picture in her talk so lively grew,
Her new-set jewels round her robe are plac'd,

That thy dear image rose before my view;
Some in a brilliant buckle bind her waist,

She dwelt whole hours upon thy shape and mien, Some round her neck a circling lighe display,

And wounded Delia's fame, to sooth my spleen ; Some in her hair diffule a trembling ray;

When she beheld me at the name grow pale, The filver knot o'erlooks the Mechlin lace, Strait to thy charms she chang'd her artful tale; And adds becoming beauties to her face ;

And, when thy matchless charms were quite run Brocaded flowers o'er the gay mantua shine,

o'er, And the rich says her taper shape confine;

I bid her tell the pleasing tale once more.
Thus all her dress exerts a graceful pride, Oh, Daphnis ! from thy Araminta filed!
And sporcing loves surround th' expecting bride; Oh, to my love for ever, ever dead!
For Daphnis now attends the blushing maid,

Like death, his nuptials all my hope remove, Before the priest the folemn vows are paid ; And ever part me from the man I love. [“ pain ; This day, which ends at once all Delia's cares,

" Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my Shall (well a thousand eyes with secret tears.

“ For eyes the language of the foul explain." Cease, Araminta, 'tis in vain to grieve,

O might I by my cruel fate be thrown, Can't thou from Hymen's bonds the youth re

In some retreat far from this hateful town! trieve?

Vain dress and glaring equipage, adieu ! Disdain his perjuries, and no longer mourn : Let happier nymphs thole empty shows pursue. Recal my love, and find a sure return.

Me let fome nelancholy lade surround, But Nill the wretched maid no comfort knows, Where not the print of human (tep is found. And with resentment cherishes her woes:

In the gay dance my feet no more shall move, Alvne he pines, and, in these mournful strains, But bear me faintly through the linely grove. Of Daphnis' vows, and her own fate complains : No more these hands fall o'er the fpinner bound, Was it for this I sparkled at the Play,

And from the Deeping Itrings call forth the found: And loiter'd in the Ring whole hours away? Music, adieu! farewell, Italian airs When if thy chariot in the circle frone,

The croaking raven now shall footh my cares. Our mutual passion by our looks was known : On fonie old ruir, lost in thought, I rell, Through the gay crowd my watchful glances few, And think how Araminta once was hleít; Where'er I pafs, thy grateful eyes pursue. (pain; There o'er and o'er thy letters I perose,

Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my And all my grief in one kind senterice lose ; * For eyes the language of the soul explain

Some tendir Ire by chance my woe beguiles, Think, Daphnis, think that scarce five days are And on my cheek a short liv'd pleature smiles. fled,

(you said; , Why is this dawn of joy? few, tears. again! Since (О false tongue !) those treacherous things Vain are there oaths, and all these vows are vain ; How did you praise my shape and graceful air : Daphnis, alas she Gordian krot has tyd; And wonian thinks all compliments fincere. Nur force nor cunning can th band divide (plain, Didit thou not then in rapture speak ihy flame,

" Ah, faithless youth fi ce {ves the foui exAnd in soft fighs brcathe Araminta's name? Why knew Inot thac astful tongue could feign."

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Her Mechlin pinners, rent, the door bestrow, AN ELEGY ON A LAP-DOG.

And her torn fan gives real signs of woe.

Hence fuperftition, that tormenting guest, Suock's fate I mourn ; poor Shock is now no Thar haunts with fancy'd fears the coward breat; more;

No dread events upon this face atcend, Ye muses, mourn; ye chambermaids, deplore. Stream eyes no more, no more thy trelles rend. Unhappy Shock! yet more unhappy fair, Though certain omens oft forewarn a state, Doom'd to survive thy joy and only care ! And dying lions show the monarch's fate; Thy wretched fingers now no more shall deck, Why should such fears bid Cælia's forrow rise? And tie the favourite ribband round his neck ; For, when a lap dog falls, no lover dies. No more thy hand shall smooth his glossy hair, Cease, Cælia, ceale; restrain thy flowing tears ; And comb the wavings of his pendent ear. Some warmer passion will dispel thy cares. Yet cease thy flowing grief, forsaken maid; In man you'll find a more substantial bliss, All mortal pleasures in a moment fade;

More grateful toying, and a sweeter kiss. Our surelt hope is in an hour destroy'd;

He's dead. Oh lay him gently in the ground! And love, best gift of Heaven, not long enjoy'd. And may his tomb be by this verse renown'd:

Methinks I fee her frantic with despair, “ Here Shock, the pride of all his kind, is laid : Her streaming eyes, wrung hands, and flowing “ Who fawn'd like man, but ne'er like man behair;





If to fair India's coast we sail,

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy kin is ivory so white.
Thus every beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.
Though battle call me from thy arms,

Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,

William shall to his dear return.
Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Left precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,

The fails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer must she stay aboard :

They kiss’d, the figh’d, he hung his head.
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land :
Adieu : she cries; and wav'd her lily hand..

All in the Downs the fleet was moorid,

The Itreamers waving in the wind,
When black-ey'd Susan came aboard.

Oh! where shall I my true love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William fails among the crew.
William, who high upon the yard

Rock'd with the billow to and fro,
Soon as her well-known voice he heard,

He figh’d, and cast his eyes below :
The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,
And (quick as lightning) on the deck be štands.
So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast
(if chance his mate's shrill call he hear),

And drops at once into her nest.
The noblest capcain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.
O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,

My vows shall ever true remain;
Let nie kiss off that falling tear;

We only part to meet again.
Change, as ye list, ye winds: my heart shall be
The faithful compass that fill points to thee.
Believe not what the lando,en say,

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind.
They'll tell thee, failors, when away,

la every port a mistress find : Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee fo, Pur thou art present whereloc'er I go,


'Twas when the seas were roaring

With hollow blasts of wind;
A damsel lay deploring,

All on a rock reclin'd.
Wide o'er the foaming billows

She cast a wistful look;
Her head was crown'd with willows,

That trembled o'er the brook.
Twelve months are gone and orer,

And nine long tedious days.
Why didft thou, venturous lover,

Why didk thou trust the seas;

Thus the fair to fighs gave way,
Her empty purse beside her lay.

Nymph, ah, cease thy sorrow. Though curft fortune frown to-night, This odious town can give delight,

If you win to-morrow.



Cease, cease, thou cruel ocean,

And let my lover rest:
Ah! what's thy troubled motion

To that within my breast?
The merchant, robb’d of pleasure,

Sees tempefts in despair;
But what's the loss of treasure,

To lofing of my dear?
Should you some coast be laid on,

Where gold and diamonds grow, You'd find a richer maiden,

But none that loves you so. How can they say that nature

Has nothing made in vain; Why then beneath the water

Should hideous rocks remain? No eyes the rocks discover,

That lurk beneath the deep, To wreck the wandering lover,

And leave the maid to weep. All melancholy lying,

Thus wail'd the for her dear; Repay'd each blast with sighing,

Each billow with a tear; When o'er the white wave stooping,

His floating corpse she spy'd; Then, like a lily drooping,

She bow'd her head, and dy'd.

The sun was now withdrawn,

The shepherds home were fpid; The moon wide o'er the lawn

Her silver mantle spread; When Damon stay'd behind,

And faunter'd in the grove. Will ne'er a nymph be kind,

And give me love for love? Oh! those were golden hours,

When love, devoid of cares, In all Arcadia's bowers

Lodg'd swains and nymphs by pairs; But now from wood and plain

Flies every sprightly lass; No joys for me remain,

In thades, or on the grass. The winged boy draws near,

And thus the swain reproves: While beauty revel'd here,

My game lay in the groves; At court I never fail

To scatter round my arrows; Men fall as thick as hail,

And maidens love like sparrows Then, swain, if me you need,

Straight lay your sheep-hook down; Throw by your oaten reed,

And haste away to town.
So well I'm known at court,

None asks where Cupid dwells;
But readily resort
To Bellenden's or Lepell's.





PHYLLIDA, that lov'd to dream
In the grove, or by the Atream;

Sighid on velvet pillow.
What alas ! should fill her head,
But a fountain, or a mead,

Water and a willow! Love in cities never dwells, He delights in rural cells

Which sweet woodbine covers. What are your assemblies then? There, 'cis true, we see more men;

But much fewer lovers. Oh, how chang'd the prospec grows ! Flocks and herds to fops and beaux,

Coxcombs without number!
Moon and stars that shone so bright,
To the torch and waxen light,

And whole nights at ombre.
Pleasant as it is, to hear
Scandal tickling in our car,

Ev'n of our own mothers;
In the chit-chat of the day,
To us is pay’d, when we're away,

What we lent to others.
Though the fav« urite tealt I reign;
Wine, they say, thar prompts the vain,

Heightens defamation.
Mua Live 'twixi fpite and fear,
Bvery day grow handsomer,

And lose my reputation?

Daphnis stood pensive in the shade,

With arms across, and head rectin'd;
Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,

And lighs reliev'd his love-lick mind:
His tunetul pipe all broken lay;
Looks, fighs, and actions, seem'd to say,

My Chloe is unkind.
Why ring the woods with warbling thrvats?

Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains; I faintly hear in your sweet notes

My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains: Yet why should you your song for bear? Your mates delight your song to hear;

Bat Chloe mine disdains. As thus he melancholy stood,

Dejected as the lonely dove, Sweet sounds broke gently through the wood.

I feel the sound; my heart-Itrings move.

'Twas not the nightingale that sung;

Look ye, mother, she cry'd, No. 'Tis my Chloe's Tweeter tongue.

.You inftrud me in pride, Hark, hark, what says my love?

And men by good manners are woni.

She who trifles with all
How foolish is the nymph (she cries)
Who trifles with her lover's pain !

Is less likely to fall

Than the who but trifles with one.
Nature still speaks in woman's eyes,
Our artful lips were made to feign.

Pr’ythee, Molly, be wise,
O Daphnis, Daphnis, 'twas my pride,

Left by sudden surprise *Twas not my heart thy love deny'd;

Love should single in every vein: Come back, dear youth, again.

Take a shepherd for life,

And when once you're a wife,
As t'other day my hand he seiz'd,

You safely may trifle again.
My blood with thrilling motion flew;
Sudden I put on looks displeas d,

Molly smiling reply'd,

Then I'll soon be a bride; And halty from his hold withdrew. 'Twas fear alone, thou simple swain ;

Old Roger has gold in his chest. Then hadtt thou preft my hand again,

But I thought all you wives

Chose a man for your lives, My heart had yielded too!

And trified no more with the rest. 'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,

That swell's thy lip and rosy cheek;
Think not thy skill in fong defam'd,

Or, the Fair Maid of the Inn. A Ballad
That lip should other pleasures seek:

Says my uncle, I pray discover Much, much thy music I approve;

What hath been the cause of your woes; Yet break thy pipe, for more I love,

Why you pine and you whine like a lover! Much more to hear thee (peak.

-I have seen Molly Mug of the Role. My heart forbodes that I'm betray'd,

O nephew! your grief is but folly, Daphnis, I fear, is ever gone ;

In town you may find better prog: Last night with Delia's dog he play'd,

Half a crown there will get you a Molly, Live by such trifles first comes on.

A Molly much better than Mog. Now, now, dear shepherd, come away,

I know that by wits 'tis recited My tongue would now my heart obey.

That women are best at a clog; Ah, Chloe, thou art won !

But I am not so easily frighted The youth stepp'd forth with hasty pace,

From loving of sweet Molly Mog. And found where withing Chloe lay;

The school-boy's desire is a play-day; Shame sudden lighten'd in her face,

The schoolmaster's joy is to flog; Confus'd, she knew not what to say.

The milk-maid's delight is on May-day; Ac laft, in broken words the cry'd;

But mine is on (weet Molly Mog. To-morrow you in vain had try'd,

Will-a-wisp leads the traveller gadding (bog: But I am loft to-day!

Through ditch, and through quagmire, and

But no light can set me a-madding

Like the eyes of my sweet Molly Mog.

Por guineas in other men's breeches

Your gamefters will palm and will cog;

But I envy them none of their riches, At the close of the day,

So I may win sweet Molly Mog. When the bean-flower and hay

The heart when half wounded is changing, Breath'd odours in every wind;

It here and there leaps like a frog; Love enliven'd the veins

But my heart can never be ranging, of the danisels and swains;

'Tis so fix'd upon sweet Molly Mog. Each glance and each action was kind.

Who follows all ladies of pleasure, Molly, wanton and free,

In pleasure is thought'but a hog; Kiss'd, and fat on each knee,

All the lex cannot give so good measure Fond ecstasy swam in her eyes.

Of joys, as my sweet Molly Mog. See, thy mother is near;

I feel I'm in love to distraction, Hark! the calls thee to hear

My senses all loft in a fog; What age and experience advise.

And nothing can give fatisladion,
Hast thou seen the blithe dove

But thinking of sweet Molly Mog.
Stretch her neck to her love,
All glofly with purple and gold ?

* This ballad was written on an ina keeper's daugt. If a kiss he obtain,

ter at Oakingban in berkjoire, mobo in iver youth was a She returns it again :

celebrated beuty and to.2,'t : foe lived to a very atoarced What follows, you need not be told.

age, dying fo lately as the month of Mareb, 1766.


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