SONG I. At St. Olyth, &c.

3T St. Ofyth by the Mill

There lives a lovely Lafs; Oh! had I her Good-will, How gaily Life wou'd pass! No bold intruding Care

My Blifs fhou'd e'er deftroy,

Her Smiles wou'd gild Defpair,
And brighten ev'ry Joy.
Like Nature's rural Scene,

Her artless Beauties charm

Like them, with Joy ferene,"
Our wishing Hearts they warm;
Her Wit, with Sweetnefs crown'd,
Steals ev'ry Sense away,

The lift'ning Swains around

Forget the fhort'ning Day.

Health, Freedom, Wealth, and Eafe,
Without her tastelefs are;
She gives them Pow'r to please,
And makes them worth our Care ;
Is there, ye Fates, a Bliss

Referv'd my future Share,
Indulgent hear my Wish,

And grant it all in her,

SONG II. Flora, Goddefs, &c.
LORA, Goddess fweetly-blooming,
Ever airy, ever gay,

F

All her wonted Charms refuming,
To Spring-Garden calls away.
With this blissful Spot delighted,
Here the Queen of May retreats;
Belles and Beaux are all invited
To partake of vary'd Sweets

See a grand Pavillon yonder,
Rifing near embow ring Shades ;
There a Temple ftrikes with Wonder,
In full View of Colonnades.
Art and Nature (kindly lavisb)
Here their mingled Beauties yield
Equal here the Pleasures ravish,

Of the Court, and of the Field.
Hark! what heav'nly Notes defcending
Break upon the lift'ning Ear:
Mufick all its Graces lending,
Otis Extafy to hear!
Nightingales the Concert joining,

Breathe their Plaints in melting Strains à
Vanquish'd now, their Groves refiguing,
Soon they fly to diftant Plains.

Lo! what Splendors round us darting,
Swift illume the charming Scene;
Chandeliers their Lights imparting,
Pour fresh Beauties o'er the Green.
Glitt'ring Lamps, in Order planted,
Strike the Eye with fweet Surprize!
Adam fcarce was more inchanted,
When he faw the Sun firft rife,
Now the various Bands are feated,
All difpos'd in bright Array 5
Bus nefs o'er, and Cares retreated;
With gay Mirth they close the Day.
Thus, of old, the Sons of Pleasure
Pafs'd in Shades their fav'rite Hours;
(Nectar chearing their soft Leifure)

Blefs'd by Love, and crown'd with Flow'ts,
SONG III. If Love, &c.

F Love be a Fault, and in me thought a
Crime,

IF

How great my Offence, bear ye Witness, O Time!

The Days and the Nights, and the Hours, as they roll'd,

You know may be felt, but are ne'er to be told. One Day pafs'd away, and faw nothing but Love, Another came on, and the fame thing did prove: The Sun it grew tir'd still to look on the fame, But I grew more pleas'd when the next Moment

came.

I faw you all Day, and, each Night, with new
Guft,

And yet ev'ry Day was to me as the first:
Thus fleeting Time paffes, with Down on its
Wings,

And whilft this remains, reft unenvy'd ye Kings,
If this be my Crime, be my Judges, ye Fair;
And if I muft fuffer for what is fo rare,

True Lovers hereafter this Wonder fhall tell, The Cause of my Death is for loving too well,

SONG IV. If ever, &c.

F ever, Damon, you shou'd rove,
Still bear me ever in your Mind;

If walking in fome fhady Grove,
Or on fome flow'ry Bank reclin'd:
Still let my faithful Image be
Among the Shades retir'd with thee.
If you thou'd wander where fome Brook
Does o'er the murm'ring Pebbles flow,
As on the filver Stream you look,

Think how I weep oppreft with Woe:
And fhou'd the Current want Supplies,
I cou'd recruit it from my Eyes.
If perch'd upon fome pointed Theme,
The Nightingale renews her Strain;
Let it remind thee how forlorn,

When you are abfent, I complain :
Or, fhou'd you hear the widow'd Dove,
Think I like her lament my Love.

Where you behold the fetting Ray
Trembling beneath the lowest Skies,
The fullen Gloom of clofing Day

May reprefent me to your Eyes:
For, languid as departing Light
Am I, when abfent from your Sight.

SONG V. Come, dear, &c.

Ome, dear Amanda, quit the Town,
And to the rural Hamlets ply;
Behold, the Winter Storms are gone,
A gentle Radiance glads the Sky.
The Birds awake, the Flow'rs appear,
Earth spreads a verdant Couch for thee,
'Tis Joy and Mufick all we hear!

'Tis Love and Beauty all we fee!
Come, let us mark the gradual Spring,
How peep the Buds, the Bloffom blows,
Till Philomel begins to fing,

And perfect May to fpread the Rofe,
Let us fecure the fhort Delight,

And wifely crop the blooming Day; For foon, too foon it will be Night, Arife, my Love, and come away. SONG VI. Colin's Complaint.

F

Air Phabe, withdraw thy bright Rays,

And hide thee behind some dark Gloom. Thy Beam my Confufion betrays,

Which Darkness had better become;

See how the chafte Profpects inflame,
How glows ev'ry conscious Bush!

Each Object feems touch'd with my Shame,
The Landscape appears in a Blush.

Kind Echo, thy Accent restrain,

And filently hear all my Woes;

Thy Babbling offends my falfe Swain,

And upbraids him with Breach of his Vows.

5

Tho' the Language that flow'd from his Tongue
Was as faife as the Wind or the Sea,
Oh! let him not think on the Wrong,

Left he become wretched like me.
Ye Rofes, that blush on my Cheek,
Why did you not wither away?
Was it kind thus my Ruin to feek,
And adorn while you mean to betray?
Ye Traytors, no longer appear,

In your Place let Deformity grow;
I'll wash off your Bloom with my Tear,
Till Death puts an End to my Woe.
On the Ground all alone in the Grove,
By the fide of a murmuring Stream,
Thus Daphne lamented her Love,

And Damon the falle was her Theme; Her Cheeks a wan Colour o'erfpread, Her Eye-lids were clos'd with a Gloom, Adieu, my falfe Shepherd, the cry'd, And breath'd out her Life in a Groan.

YE

SONG VII.

E Shades, where fragrant Zephyrs blow, And fhed around their rofie Dew; Where whisp'ring Waters gently flow, And faithful Turtles fondly coo: Where I fo oft have heard my Swain, My fa thlefs Damon tell his Pain. How gay, how fweet was ev'ry Flow'r, That dreft the Margin of each Stream, Where fondly Damon figh'd and fwore,

And Vows and Love were all his Theme? The Stream, the Flow'rs, the lift'ning Shade All! all have heard the Vows he made.

But fince my perjur'd Damon flies,

The Rofe that deck'd the lonesome Bow'r,

Unheeded buds, unheeded dies,

Its dewy Fragrance charms no more :