I. Set by Mr. ABEL.

ends in melancholy;

Wine breeds vices and diseases;

Wealth is but care, and Love but folly;

Only Friendship truly pleases.

My wealth, my books, my flask, my Molly;
Farewell all, if Friendship ceafes.

II. Set by Mr. PURCELL.

W

HITHER would my passion run?
Shall I fly her, or pursue her?

Losing her, I am undone ;

Ye

Yet would not gain her, to undo her.

tyrants of the human breast,
Love and Reafon ! ceafe your war,
And order Death to give me rest;
So each will equal triumph fhare.

VOL. II.

T

III. Set

III. Set by Mr. DE FESC H.

STR

TREPHONETTA, why d' ye fly me,
With fuch rigour in your eyes?

Oh! 'tis cruel to deny me,

Since your charms I fo much prize.

But I plainly fee the reason,

Why in vain I you purfued; Her to gain 'twas out of feason, Who before the chaplain woo'd.

Сам

IV. Set by Mr. SMITH.

OME, weep no more, for 'tis in vain.;
Torment not thus your pretty heart :
Think, Flavia, we may meet again,
As well as, that we now muft part.

You figh and weep; the Gods neglect
That precious dew your eyes let fall :
Our joy and grief with like respect
They mind; and that is, not at all.

We pray, in hopes they will be kind,
As if they did regard our state:
They hear; and the return we find
Is, that no prayers can alter Fate.

Then

Then clear your brow, and look more gay,
Do not yourself to grief refign;

Who knows but that those powers may

The pair, they now have parted, join?

But, fince they have thus cruel been,
And could fuch conftant lovers fever;
I dare not truft, left, now they 're in,
They fhould divide us two for ever.

Then, Flavia, come, and let us grieve,
Remembering though upon what score;
This our laft parting look believe,

Believe we muft embrace no more.

Yet, fhould our fun fhine out at laft;
And Fortune, without more deceit,
Throw but one reconciling caft,

To make two wandering lovers meet;

How great then would our pleasure be,
To find Heaven kinder than believ'd;
And we, who had no hopes to fee
Each other, to be thus deceiv'd!

But fay, fhould Heaven bring no relief,
Suppose our fun should never rife:
Why then what's due to fuch a grief,
We 've paid already with our eyes.

V. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.

LET perjur'd fair Amynta know,

What for her fake I undergo;
Tell her, for her how I fuftain
A lingering fever's wafting pain;
Tell her, the torments I endure,
Which only, only the can cure.

But, oh! fhe fcorns to hear, or fee,
The wretch that lies fo low as me;
Her fudden greatness turns her brain,
And Strephon hopes, alas! in vain :
For ne'er 'twas found (though often try'd)
That pity ever dwelt with pride.

VI. Set by Mr. SMITH.

PHILLIS, fince we have both been kind,

And of each other had our fill;

Tell me what pleasure you can find,
In forcing nature 'gainst her will.

"Tis true, you may with art and pain
Keep-in fome glowings of defire;
But ftill thofe glowings which remain
Are only afhes of the fire.

Then let us free each other's foul,

And laugh at the dull conftant fool, Who would Love's liberty control, And teach us how to whine by rule.

Let us no impofitions fet,

Or clogs upon each other's heart; But, as for pleasure first we met,

So now for pleasure let us part.

We both have spent our stock of love,
So confequently should be free;
Thyrfis expects you in yon' grove;
And pretty Chloris stays for me.

VII. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.

PHILLIS, this pious talk give o’er,

And modeftly pretend no more;

It is too plain an art :

Surely you take me for a fool,

And would by this prove me fo dull,
As not to know your heart.

In vain you fancy to deceive,
For truly I can ne'er believe

But this is all a fham:

Since any one may plainly fee,

You'd only fave yourself with me,

And with another damn.