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Or else at serious Ombre play;
But why shou'd we in vain
And cast our Hopes away,
Sit careless at a Play;
your Hand, or flirt
When any mournful Tune you hear,
That dies in ev'ry Note,
For being so remote;
Think Think then how often Love we've made To you,
when all those Tunes were play'd. With a Fa, &c.
In Justice you cannot refuse
To think of our Distress,
Our certain Happiness;
With a Fa, &c.
And now we've told you all our Loves,
And likewise all our Fears
Some Pity for our Tears,
With a Fa la, la, la, la.
A LA MOD E.
MWhile thus Imparadis'd I lye.
Y better self, my Heav'n, my Joy!
While thus Įmparadis'd I lye, Transported in thy circling Arms With fresh Variety of Charms, From Fate I scarce can think to cráve A Bliss, but what in theé I have. Twelve Months, my Dear, have past, since thou Didft plight to me thy Virgin Vow; Twelve Months in Rapture spent! for they Seem shorter than St. Lucy's Day: A bright Example we shall provę Of lasting matrimonial Love,
Mean while, I beg the Gods to grant (The only Favour that I want)
That I may not survive, to see
When W HEADLE thus to Spouse in Bed
The Gods are fearful of the worst,
And send me, Death, to fetch thee first;