But now the adorns the Boxes and Pit,
And the proudest Town Gallants are forc'd to
fubmit s

All Hearts fall a leaping wherever the comes,
And beat Day and Night, like my Lord

3kw 94Drums;

But to thofe who have had my dear Befs in their Arms,

She's gentle,and knows how to foften her Charms; And to every Beauty can add a new Grace,

Having learn'd how to lifp, and trip in her Pace: And with Head on one Side, and a languishing Eye,

To skill us with looking, as if she would die,

SONG CLXXXVII Adieu ta, &c. Dieu to the Pleafures and Follies of Love, For a Paffion more noble my Fancy does move;

A

My Shepherd is dead, and I live to proclaim,
In forrowful Notes my Amintas his Name:
The Wood-Nymphs reply when they hear me
sa bas complain,

Thou never fhalt fee thy Amintas again ;
be For Death has befriended him,

Fate has defended him,

4

None, none alive is fo happy a Swain.

You Shepherds and Nymphs, that have danc'd Are? to his Lays,

Come help me to fing forth Amintas his Praffe No Swain for the Garland durft with him difpute, So fweet were his Notes, while he fang to his

Lute:

Then come to his Grave,and your Kindness purfue, To weave him a Garland, with Cypress and Yew;

3d For Life hath forfaken him,

Death hath o'ertaken him,

No Swain again will be ever so true,

Then leave me alone to my wretched Estate,

loft him too foon, and I loved him too late You Echo's, and Fountains, my Witneffes prove, How deeply I figh for the Lofs of my Love: And now of our Pan, whom we chiefly adore, This Favour I never will ceafe to implore; That now I may go above, And there enjoy my Love,

Then, then I never will part with him more, SONG CLXXXVIII. Paftora's, &

ASTOR A's Beauties when unblown,

E'er yet the tender Bud did cleave,
To my more early Love were known,
Their fatal Power I did perceive
How often in the Dead of Night,

When all the World lay huth'd in Sleep
Have I thought this my chief Delight,
To figh for you, for you to weep.
Upon my Heart, whofe Leaves of White
No Letter yet did ever stain :

Fate (whom none can controul) did write,
The fair Paftora here must reign:
Her Eyes thofe darling Suns fhall prove
Thy Love to be of noblest Racet
Which took ite Flight fo far above
All human Things, on her to gaze.
How can you then a Love defpife,

A Love that was infus'd by you?
You gave Breath to its infant Sighs,
And all its Griefs that did enfue:
The Pow'r you have to wound I feel,
How long fhall I of that complain?
Now thew the Pow'r you have to heal,
And take away the tort'ring Pain.

SONG CLXXXIX. Hail to the &c. Ail to the Myrtle Shade,

H

All hail to the Nymphs of the Field :

Kings will not here invade,
Tho' Virtue all Freedom yield,
Beauty here operis her Arms,

To foften the languishing Mind
And Phillis unlocks her Charms
Ah Phillis! ah! why fo kind?
Phillis; the Soul of Love,

The Joy of neighbouring Swains 1 Phillis that crowns the Grove,

And Phillis that gilds the Plains:
Phillis that ne'er had the Skill

To paint, or to patch, or be fine;
Yet Phillis, whofe Eyes can kill,
Whom Nature has made divine.
Phillis, whofe charming Tongue
Makes Labour and Pain a Delight
Phillis that makes the Day young,
And hortens the live-long Night
Phillis, whofe Lips like May,
Still laugh at the Sweets they bring
Where Love never knew Decay,
But fets with eternal Spring,

SONG CXC. Chloris, in native, &d.
HLOR IS, in native Purple bright,
The Violet of Beauty Springs ;

CH

She fpreads her op'ning Sweets to Sight,
And ravifhes with warbling Strings.
Fair Charmer of our Eyes and Ears,
Cecilia fire has Heav'n forfook;
She brings foft Mufick from, the Spheres,
And bears an Angel in her Look.

SONG CXCI.. Ye Purple-blooming, &e.
Purple-blooming Rofes,

E

Whom Love in Wreathes difpofes

Why guard ye Γα your Treasures,
And grudge the Boy his Pleasures?

So mix'd with fweet and four,
Life's not unlike the Flow're u
Its Sweets unpluckt will languish,
And gather'd 'tis with Anguish,
Then, lovely Boy, bring hither
The Chaplet, e'er it wither
Steep'd in the various Juices
The cluster'd Vine produces.

This, round my moisten'd Treffes,

The Ufe of Life expreffes:

Wine blunts the Thorn of Sorrow, SadTeiT
Our Rofe may fade to morrow. Sed mid W
SONG CXCII. Fair Sally, &c.
Air Sally lov'd a bonny Seaman,

With Tears the fent him out to roam
Young Thomas lov'd no other Woman,
But left his Heart with her at Home.
She view'd the Sea from off the Hill,
And while fhe turn'd the Spinning Wheel,
Sung of her bonny Seaman.

The Winds grew loud, and he grew paler
To fee the Weathercock turn round; o
When lo! the fpy'd her bonny Sailor

Come finging o'er the fallow Grounder
With nimble Hafte he leap'd the Stile
And Sally met him with a Smile,

And hugg'd her bonny Sailor.

Faft round the Waift he took his Sally, not
But first around his Mouth wip'd he; w bnA
Like home-bred Spark, he could not dally,
But kifs'd and prefs'd her with a Glee;
Thro' Winds and Waves, and dafhing Rain,
Cry'd he, thy Tom's return'd again,

And brings a Heart for Sally.

Welcome, the cry'd, my conftant Thomas,
Tho' out of Sight, ne'er out of Mind;
Our Hearts tho' Seas have parted from us,
Yet they my Thoughts did leave behindanoz I

So much my Thoughts took Tommy's Part,
That Time, nor Absence from my Heart
Cou'd drive my conftant Thomas.
This Knife, the Gift of lovely Sally,
I still have kept for thy dear Sake on
A thousand times, in am'rous Folly,
Thy Name I've carv'd upon the Deck.
Again this happy Pledge returns,
To tell how truly Thomas burns;
How truly burns for Sally

This Thimble didft thou give to Sally,
Whilft this I fee, I think of you ;
Then why does Tom ftand, fhall I, fhall I
yonder Steeple's in our View.

Tom never to Occafion blind,

Now took her in the coming Mind,
And went to Church with Sally:

SONG CXCIII. Little Flea, &c.
Ittle Flea, why fo bloody-thirty?

L

Thou'ft drunk, till it has almoft burst thee. Thou'rt now too full of Pride, I warrant, To ftir a Step on Strephon's Errand. Yet, prithee, fweet fincere Backbiter, To Chloe go, that falfe Delighter; S. Go hide thy felf within her Bodice, And make her own the is no Goddefs. S. Tell her the Shafts of Cupid's Quiver So from her Eyes have pierc'd my Liver; S. And when the holds thee 'twixt her Fingers, Say thu's your Love-fick Strephon lingers. S. SONG CXCIV. 'Tis thee I love.

"T"

IS thee I love,

I'll conftant prove J

You are the Charmer of my Heart;

4

Dearest believe me,

I'll ne'er deceive thee,

From Chloe bright I ne'er can part.