COME,

OME, learn of me, my rural friends,
Who would the fweets of life enjoy;

Come, fee, where MIRTH with VIRTUE blends,
And focial cares the hours employ.
Come, fee, around my chearful fire,
Domestic bleffings on me wait;

Whate'er 'tis virtuous to defire,

E'er dwells within my peaceful gate.

II.

We know no charms in Folly's train;
We feel no pain from Envy's dart;
The guilty pleasures of the vain

No with excite, no joys impart.
Secure within ourselves, we find

Felicity they cannot bring:

The treasure of the virtuous mind,

The golden age which poets fing,

A a

III.

Nor here are sOCIAL joys forgot;

Some fwain, whofe heart with friendship głowe, Shares the free comforts of our cot;

The peaceful scene still brighter grows.
Now guiltless mirth our breasts inspire,
O'er many a past delight we rove;
Whilft MARY wakes the rural lyre
To friendship, or to faithful love.

IV.

Enjoy with me this heartfelt eafe,
Leave envy, folly, noise, and ftrife';
Comforts unmixt enjoy, like these,
That foothe the rugged paths of life.
Like me, be happy, blythe and gay,
Nor my rich homely joys defpife;
"But ere youth's feafon glides away,

"The SHEPHERD's transports learn to prize.

2.3

SON G.

BY MATTHEW PRIOR, ESQ.

wine and mufic have the power

To cafe the fickness of the foul;
Let Phoebus every ftring explore,
And Bacchus fill the fprightly bowl.

Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my Chloe's absence light;
And feek for pleasure, to destroy

The forrows of this live-long night.

But fhe to-morrow will return :
Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles ftrow, thy odours burn,
And meet thy favʼrite nymph in states

Kind goddess, to no other powers
Let us to-morrow's bleffings own:
Thy darling love fhall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.

SONG.

BY WILLIAM SHENSTONE, ESQ.

ADIEU! ye jovial youths, who join

To plunge old Care in floods of wine;

And, as your dazzl'd eye-balls roll,
Difcern him ftruggling in the bowl.

Nor yet is hope fo wholly flown,

Nor yet is thought fo tedious grown;

But limpid ftream and fhady tree
Retain, as yet, fome fweets for me.

And fee, through yonder filent grové,
See yonder does my DAPHNE rove:
With pride her footsteps I pursue,
And bid your frantic joys adieu.

The fole confufion I admire,

Is that my DAPHNE's eyes inspire; I fcorn the madness you approve, And value reason next to love.

T

A

TEAR bedews my DELIA's eye,

To think yon playful kid must die; From crystal spring, and flow'ry mead, Muft, in his pride of life, recede !

Erewhile, in fportive circles round

She faw him wheel, and frisk, and bound; From rock to rock pursue his way,

And, on the fearful margin, play.

Pleas'd on his various freaks to dwell,
She faw him climb my ruftic cell;
Thence eye my lawns with verdure bright,
And feem'd all ravish'd at the fight.

She tells, with what delight he stood,
To trace his features in the flood:
Then skipp'd aloof with quaint amaze;
And then drew near again to gaze.

She tells me, how with eager speed
He flew, to hear my vocal reed;
And how, with critic face profound,
And stedfaft ear, devour'd the found.

His ev'ry frolic, light as air,
Deferves the gentle DELIA's care;
And tears bedew her tender eye,
To think the playful kid must die.-

But knows my DELIA, timely wife,
How foon this blameless æra flies?
While violence and craft fucceed;
Unfair defign, and ruthless deed!