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A S ON

G.

1.

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eyes : you see,

AIR, sweet and young, receive a prize
Reserv'd for

your

victorious From crouds, whom at your

feet
O pity, and distinguish me!
As I from thousand beauties more
Distinguish you, and only you adore,

II.
Your face for conquest was design'd,
Your
every

motion charms my mind;
Angels, when you your silence break,
Forget their hymns, to hear you speak;
But when at once they hear and view,
Are loth to mount, and long to stay with you,

III.
No

graces can your form improve,
But all are lost, unless you love;
While that sweet passion you disdain,
Your veil and beauty are in vain :
In pity then prevent my fate,
For after dying all reprieve's too late,

A S O N

G.

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IGH state and honors to others impart,
But give me your

heart : That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.
So gentle a love, so fervent a fire,

My soul does inspire ;
That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.
Your love let me crave;

Give me in poffeffing
So matchless a blessing;
That empire is all I would have.

Love's my petition,
All my ambition ;
If e'er you discover
So faithful a lover,
So real a flame,
I'll die, I'll die,
So give up my game.

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R O N D E L A Y.

1.

CHL

HLOE found Amyntas lying,
All in tears upon

the plain; Sighing to himself, and crying,

Wretched I, to love in vain ! Kiss me, dear, before my dying ;

Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

II.

Sighing to himfelf, and crying,

Wretched I, to love in vain ! Ever scorning and denying

To reward your faithful fwain: : Kiss me, dear, before my dying;

Kiss me once, and ease my pain !

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Ever scorning, and denying

To reward your faithful fwain. Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain : Kiss me, dear, before my dying ; Kiss me once, and eafe my pain !

IV. Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain : But repenting, and complying,

When he kiss'd, she kiss'd again : Kiss'd him up before his dying;

Kiss'd him up, and eas'd his pain.

* *********

A S O N G.

9

Gi

İ.
O tell Amynta, gentle swain,

I would not die, nor dare complain :
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy words will more prevail than mine.
To souls oppress'd, and dumb with grief,
The gods ordain this kind relief;
That music should in sounds convey,
What dying lovers dare not say.

II.
A sigh or teat, perhaps, she'll give,
But love on pity cannot live.

Tell her that hearts for hearts were made;
And love with love is only paid.
Tell her my pains so fast increase,
That soon they will be past redress
But ah! the wretch, that speechless lies,
Attends but death to close his eyes.

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Fair Young LADY, going out of the Town in

the Spring

I.

ASK not the cause, why fullen Spring

So long delays her flowers to bear ;
Why warbling birds forget to sing,

And winter storms invert the year :
Chloris is gone, and fate provides
To make it Spring, where she resides.

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