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What are your affemblies then?
There, 'tis true, we fee morę men;

But much fewer lovers.

Oh, how chang'd the profpect grows!
Flocks and herds to fops and beaux,
Coxcombs without number!

Moon and ftars that fhone fo bright,
To the torch and waxen light,
And whole nights at ombre.
Pleasant as it is, to hear
Scandal tickling in our ear,

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 vain,
Heightens defamation.

Muft I live 'twixt fpite and fear,
Every day grow handfomer,

And lofe my reputation?

Thus the fair to fighs gave way,
Her empty purfe befide her lay.
Nymph, ah! cease thy forrow.
Though curst fortune frown to-night,
This odious town can give delight,
If you win to-morrow.

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HE fun was now withdrawn,
The fhepherds home were fped;

The moon wide o'er the lawn
Her filver mantle spread;
When Damon ftay'd behind,

And faunter'd in the grove.

Will ne'er a nymph be kind,
And give me love for love?

Oh! thofe were golden hours,
When Love, devoid of cares,
In all Arcadia's bowers

Lodg'd fwains and nymphs by pairs =
But now from wood and plain

Flies every fprightly lafs;. No joys for me remain,

In fhades, or on the grass.

The winged boy draws near,
And thus the fwain reproves
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 sheep-hook down; Throw by your oaten reed,

And hafte away to town.

So well I'm known at court,
None afks where Cupid dwells;
But readily refort

To Bellenden's or Lepell's.





DAPHNIS flood penfive in the shade,

With arms across and head reclin'd;

Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,

And fighs reliev'd his love-fick mind:
His tuneful pipe all broken lay;

Looks, fighs, and actions, feein'd to fay,
My Chloe is unkind.

Why ring the woods with warbling throats?
Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains;
I faintly hear in your fweet notes

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

But Chloe mine difdains.

As thus he melancholy ftood,

Dejected as the lonely dove,

Sweet founds broke gently through the wood.
I feel the found; my heart-ftrings move.
'Twas not the nightingale that fung;

No. 'Tis


Chloe's fweeter tongue.

Hark, hark, what fays my love?

How foolish is the nymph (the cries)
Who trifles with her lover's pain !
Nature ftill speaks in woman's eyes,

Our artful lips were made to feig■.
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 difpleas'd,

And hafty from his hold withdrew.
'Twas fear alone, thou fimple fwain;
Then hadft thou preft my hand again,
My heart had yielded too !

'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,
That fwell'd thy lip and rofy cheek;
Think not thy fkill in fong defam'd,
That lip should other pleafures feck:
Much, much thy mufick 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;

Laft night with Delia's dog he play'd,
Love by fuch trifles first comes on.
Now, now, dear fhepherd, 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 fudden lighten'd in her face,
Confus'd, the knew not what to fay.
At last, in broken words, fhe cry'd;
To-morrow you in vain had try'd,
But I am loft to-day!



A S O N G.

AT 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 {wains;

Each glance and each action was kind.

Molly, wanton and free,

Kifs'd, and fate on each knee,

Fond extafy fwam in her eyes.


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