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What are your assemblies then?
There, 'tis true, we see more men;

But much fewer lovers.
Oh, how chang'd the prospect grows!
Flocks and herds to fops and beaux,

Coxcombs without number!
Moon and stars that shone so bright,
To the torch and waxen light,

And whole nights at ombre.
Pleasant as it is, to hear
Scandal-tickling in our car,

Ev'n of our own mothers ;
In the chit-chat of the day,
To us is pay’d, when we're away,

What we lent to others.
Though the favourite Toast I reign;
Wine, they fay, that prompts the rain,

Heightens defamation.
Must I live 'twixt spite and fear,
Every day grow handsomer,

And lose my reputation ?
Thus the fair to fighs gave way,
Her empty purse beside her lay.

Nymph, ah! cease thy forrow. Though curft fortune frown to-night, This odious town can give delight,

If you win to-morrow.

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A S O N G.


HE fun was now withdrawn,

The shepherds home were sped; The moon wide o'er the lawn

Her filver mantle {pread ; When Damon stay'd behind,

And faunter'd in the grove. Will ne'er a nymph be kind,

And give me love for love? Oh! those were golden hours,

When Love, devoid of cares, In all Arcadia's bowers

Lodgid swains and nymphs by pairs : But now from wood and plain

Flies every sprightly lals; No joys for me remain,

In fhades, or on the grass.
The winged boy draws near,

And thus the swain reproves :
While Beauty reveld here,
My game lay in the

groves ; At court I never fail

To scatter round my arrows, Men fall as thick as hail;

And maidens love like sparrows..


Then, swain, if me you need,

Straight lay your sheep-hook down; Throw by your oaten reed,

And halte away to town. So well I'm known at court,

None asks where Cupid dwells ; But readily resort

To Bellenden's or Lepell’s.

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DAPHNIS Hood pensive in the shade,

With arms across and head reclin'd;
Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,

And fighs reliev'd his love-fick inind :
His tuneful pipe all broken lay;
Looks, fighs, and actions, seein'd to say,

My Chloe is unkind.


Why ring the woods with warbling throats?

Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains; I faintly hear in


My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains :
Yet why should you your song forbear ?
Your mates delight your song to hear;

But Chloe mine disdains.

As thus he melancholy ftood,

Deje ted as the lonely dove,
Sweet founds broke gently through the wood.

I feel the sound; my heart-strings move.
'Twas not the nightingale that sung;
No. 'Tis my Chloe's sweeter tongue.

Hark, hark, what says my love? How foolish is the nymph (she cries)

Who trifies with her lover's pain ! Nature ftill speaks in woman's eyes,

Our artful lips were made to feigs. O Daphnis, Daphnis, 'twas my pride, 'Twas not my heart thy love deny'd;

Come back, dear youth, again. As t other day my hand he feiz’d,

My blood with thrilling motion flew; Sudden I put on looks displeas’d,

And hasty from his hold withdrew. 'Twas fear alone, thou simple swain; Then hadst thou preft my hand again,

My heart had yielded too! 'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,

That swelld thy lip and rosy cheek ; Think not thy skill in fong defam’d,

That lip should other pleafures feek: Much, much thy musick I approve ; Yet break thy pipe, for more I love,

Much more to hear thee fpeak.


My heart forbodes that I'm betray'd,

Daphnis, I fear, is ever gone ;
Last night with Delia's dog he play'd,

Love by fuch triftes first comes on.
Now, now, dear shepherd, come away,
My tongue would now my heart obey.

Ah, Chloe, thou art won !
The youth stepp'd forth with hafty pace,

And found where wishing Chloe lay ;
Shame sudden lighten'd in her face,

Confus’d, she knew not what to say. At last, in broken words, the cry'd; To-morrow you in vain had try'd,

But I am lost to-day!





T the clofe of the day,

When the bean-flowerand hay
Breath'd odours in every wind;
Love enliven'd the veins
Of the damsels and swains ;

Each glance and each action was kind.
Molly, wanton and free,
Kiss'd, and late on each knee,

Fond extasy swam in her eyes


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