IX.

At dawn poor Stella danc'd and fung, The am'rous youth around her bow'd; At night her fatal knell was rung;

I faw, and kifs'd her in her Shrowd.

X.

Such as fhe is, who dy'd to day,
Such I, alas! may be to-morrow;
Go, Damon, bid thy mufe display
The juftice of thy Cloe's forrow.

XI.

My love, (I faid) suppress the figh, "The tender, fympathetic tear; "Thy virtues make thee fit to die; "O let me diffipate thy care.

XII.

Thy Damon will the hours employ "To make his love with thine accord; Thy tender heart fhall reap fresh joy, "For virtue is its own reward."

Bacchanalian, Convivial Songs, &c.

INVOCATION

ΤΟ

BACCHU S.

ASSIST, O thou God of the Vine,

To friendship libations we pour;

Let mirth, wit, and jollity join,

To cherish the festival hour.

II.

'Tis wine makes us happy and gay,
The Lethe and balm of all woe;

Lets crown the full glafs while me may,
A bumper to bleflings below.

III.

Let monarchs for kingdoms contend,
A fceptre's no more than a toy;
Our empire's a bottle and friend,

Wit and wine are the fountains of joy.

IV.

What's wealth or the gold of Peru,
Poffeft they but add to our care;
The wretch may take gold as his due,
But fouls will have wine and the fair.

V.

All wisdom, fays Solomon's vain,
And reafon brings doubt and despair;
How books do but puzzle the brain,
And teach us what idiots we are.

VI.

Let wretches feek grandeur and gold
And learning, all troublesome things;
Give us wine, O thou God of the Bowl,
We're greater than fages or kings.

BACCHANALIAN SON G.

WITH my friend and my glass let my time pass

away;

Since it answers no end to be dull, I'll be gay;
I care not how others their life-time may spend,
So I have my Chloe, my bottle, and friend.

Let the mifer with rapture his guineas behold,
He may value, yet ne'er know the virtue of gold;
With me its but drofs, which with pleasure I spend,
To ferve but my neighbour, my mistress, or friend.

( 71 )

Let the pedantic preacher advife what he will,
Of wrong or of right,—or of good and of ill;—
I never can think that my time ill I spend,
If I ftrive to relieve either neighbour or friend.

Then come, my companions, lets push round the glafs,

"Tis" to Friendship and Love," fo brisk let it pass, And care not how others their life-time may spend, So we can enjoy our bottle and friend.

SONG.

MUSIC BY DR. ARNOLD.

FLOW

LOW thou regal, purple ftream, tincted by the folar beam,

In my goblet sparkling rife, chear my heart and glad

my eyes;

My brain afcend on fancy's wing,

'Noint me wine a jovial king.

While I live I'll lave my clay, when I'm dead and gone

away,

Let my thirsty subjects say, a Month he reign'd, but that was MAY.