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YOW Phaebus rofe, and with his early beams


Wak'd flumbering Delia from her pleafing dreams;

Her wishes by her fancy were fupply'd,.

And in her fleep the nuptial knot was ty'd.
With fecret joy fhe faw the morning-ray
Chequer the floor, and through the curtains play;
The happy morn that fhall her blifs compleat,
And all her rivals' envious hopes defeat.
In hafte fhe rofe, forgetful of her prayers,
Flew to the glafs, and practis'd o'er her airs:
Her new-fet jewels round her robe are plac'd,
Some in a brilliant buckle bind her waift,
Some round her neck a circling light difplay,,
Some in her hair diffufe a trembling ray;
The filver knot o'erlooks the Mechlin lace,
And adds becoming beauties to her face;
Brocaded flowers o'er the gay mantua fhine,
And the rich ftays her taper fhape confine;
Thus all her drefs exerts a graceful pride,
And sporting Loves furround th' expecting bride;
For Daphnis now attends the blushing maid,,
Before the Prieft the folemn vows are paid;,
This day, which ends at once all Delia's cares,
Shall fwell a thousand eyes with fecret tears.


Ceafe, Araminta, 'tis in vain to grieve,

Canft thou from Hymen's bonds the youth retrieve?
Difdain his perjuries, and no longer mourn:
Recall my love, and find a fure return.

But ftill the wretched maid no comfort knows,
And with refentment cherishes her woes;
Alone fhe pines, and, in these mournful strains,
Of Daphnis' vows, and her own fate complains :
Was it for this I sparkled at the Play,

And loiter'd in the Ring whole hours away?
When if thy chariot in the circle fhone,

Our mutual paffion by our looks was known:
Through the gay crowd my watchful glances flew,
Where'er I pafs, thy grateful eyes pursue.

"Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you faw my pain; "For eyes the language of the foul explain."

Think, Daphnis, think that scarce five days are fled, Since (O falfe tongue!) thofe treacherous things you faid ;. How did you praise my shape and graceful air! And woman thinks all compliments fincere. Didft thou not then in rapture fpeak thy flame, And in foft fighs breathe Araminta's name? Didft thou not then with oaths thy paffion prove, And with an awful trembling, fay—I love?

"Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you faw my pain; "For eyes the language of the foul explain." How could't thou thus, ungrateful youth, deceive ? How could I thus, unguarded maid, believe? Sure thou canft well recall that fatal night, When fubtle love first enter'd at my fight:


When in the dance I was thy partner chose,
Gods! what a rapture in my bofom rofe!
My trembling hand my fudden joy confefs'd,
My glowing cheeks a wounded heart exprefs'd;

My looks spoke love; while you, with answering eyes, In killing glances made as kind replies.

Think, Daphnis, think, what tender things you faid,
Think what confufion all my foul betray'd.

You call'd my graceful prefence Cynthia's air;
And, when I fung, the Syrens charm'd your ear;
My flame, blown up by flattery, stronger grew;
A gale of love in every whisper flew.

"Ah, faithless youth! too well you saw my pain;
For eyes the language of the foul explain."
Whene'er I drefs'd, my maid, who knew my flame,
Cherish'd my paffion with thy lovely name;
Thy picture in her talk fo lively grew,
That thy dear image rose before my view;
She dwelt whole hours upon thy shape and mien,
And wounded Delia's fame, to footh my fpleen:
When the beheld me at the name grow pale,
Straight to thy charms the chang'd her artful tale;
And, when thy matchlefs charms were quite run o'er
I bid her tell the pleafing tale once more.
Oh, Daphnis! from thy Araminta fled !
Oh, to my love for ever, ever dead!
Like death, his nuptials all my hope remove,
And ever part me from the man I love.

"Ah, faithlefs youth! too well you faw For eyes the language of the foul explain."

my pain

O might

O might I by my cruel fate be thrown,
In fome retreat far from this hateful town!
Vain drefs and glaring equipage, adieu!
Let happier nymphs thofe empty fhows pursue.
Me let fome melancholy fhade furround,
Where not the print of human step is found.
In the
gay dance my
feet no more fhall move,
But bear me faintly through the lonely grove.
No more these hands fhall o'er the spinnet bound,
And from the fleeping strings call forth the found:
Mufic, adieu! farewell, Italian airs!

"The croaking raven now fhall footh
my cares.
On fome old ruin, loft in thought, I reft,
And think how Araminta once was bleft;
There o'er and o'er thy letters I perufe,
And all my grief in one kind fentence lofe:
Some tender line by chance my woe beguiles,
And on my cheek a short-liv'd pleasure fmiles.
Why is this dawn of joy? flow, tears, again!
Vain are these oaths, and all these vows are vain;
Daphnis, alas! the Gordian knot has ty'd;

Nor force nor cunning can the band divide.

"Ah, faithlefs youth! fince eyes the foul explain, "Why knew I not that artful tongue could feign?"

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HOCK'S fate I mourn; poor Shock is now no more,
Ye Mufes, mourn; ye chamber-maids, deplore..
Unhappy Shock! yet more unhappy Fair,
Doom'd to furvive thy joy and only care!
Thy wretched fingers now no more shall deck,
And tie the favourite ribband round his neck;
No more thy hand fhall fmooth his gloffy hair,
And comb the wavings of his pendent ear.
Yet ceafe thy flowing grief, forfaken maid;
All mortal pleasures in a moment fade;
Our fureft hope is in an hour deftroy'd;
And love, beft gift of Heaven, not long enjoy'd.
Methinks I fee her frantic with defpair,

Her ftreaming eyes, wrung hands, and flowing hair;
Jer Mechlin pinners, rent, the floor beftrow,

And her torn fan gives real figns of woe.
Hence Superftition, that tormenting gueft,

That haunts with fancy'd fears the coward breaft;

No dread events upon this fate attend,

Stream eyes no more, no more thy treffes rend.
Though certain omens oft' forewarn a state,
And dying lions fhow the monarch's fate;
Why fhould fuch fears bid Calia's forrow rife?
For, when a Lap-dog, falls no lover dies.

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