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What are your affemblies then?
But much fewer lovers.
Oh, how chang'd the profpect grows!
Moon and ftars that fhone fo bright,
Ev'n of our own mothers;
In the chit-chat of the day,
Though the favourite Toast I reign;
Muft I live 'twixt fpite and fear,
And lofe my reputation?
Thus the fair to fighs gave way,
A SON G.
HE fun was now withdrawn,
The moon wide o'er the lawn
Will ne'er a nymph be kind,
Oh! thofe were golden hours,
Lodg'd fwains and nymphs by pairs
In fhades, or on the grass.
The winged boy draws near,
While Beauty revel'd here,
My game lay in the groves; At court I never fail
To fcatter round my arrows, Men fall as thick as hail;
And maidens love like fparrows..
Then, fwain, if me you need,
Straight lay your fheep-hook down; Throw by your oaten reed,
And hafte away to town.
So well I'm known at court,
But readily refort
To Bellenden's or Lepell's.
A SON G.
DAPHNIS food penfive in the fhade,
With arms acrofs and head reclin'd;
Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,
And fighs reliev'd his love-fick mind:
Looks, fighs, and actions, feein'd to say,
Why ring the woods with warbling throats?
My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains:
But Chloe mine difdains.
As thus he melancholy flood,
Dejected as the lonely dove,
Sweet founds broke gently through the wood.
How foolish is the nymph (the cries)
Our artful lips were made to feign.
As t' other day my hand he feiz'd,
And hafty from his hold withdrew.
'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,
Much more to hear thee speak.
My heart forbodes that I'm betray'd,
Daphnis, I fear, is ever gone;
Laft night with Delia's dog he play'd,
The youth stepp'd forth with hafty pace,
THE COQUETTE MOTHER AND
A S O N G.
T the clofe of the day,
When the bean-flower and hay
Breath'd odours in every wind;
Love enliven'd the veins
Of the damfels and fwains;
Each glance and each action was kind.
Molly, wanton and free,
Kifs'd, and fate on each knee,
Fond extafy fwam in her eyes.