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A SONG.
Ir wine and music have the power

To ease the sickness of the soul,
Let Phæbus every string explore,

And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl. Let them their friendly aid employ,

To make my Chloe's absence light; And seek for pleasure, to destroy

The sorrows of this live-long night.

But she to-morrow will return :

Venus, be thou to-morrow great ; Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn,

And meet thy favourite nymph in state. Kind goddess, to no other powers

Let us to-morrow's blessings own : Thy darling loves shall guide the hours;

And all the day be thine alone.

THE FEMALE PHAETON.
Thus Kitty*, beautiful and young,

And wild as colt untam'd,
Bespoke the fair from whence she sprung,

With little rage inflam'd :

Lady Catharine Hyde, now Duchess of Queens berry.

Inflam'd with rage at sad restraint,

Which wise mamma ordain'd; And sorely vext to play the saint,

Whilst wit and beauty reign'd :

“ Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd

With Abigails forsaken? Kitty's for other things design'd,

Or I am much mistaken.

“ Must lady Jenny frisk about,

And visit with her cousins ?
At balls must she make all the rout,

And bring home hearts by dozens ?

• What has she better, pray, than I,

What hidden charms to boast, That all mankind for her should die,

Whilst I am scarce a toast ?

" Dearest mamma! for once let me,

Unchain'd, my fortune try; I'll have my earl as well as she,

Or know the reason why.

" I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score,

Make all her lovers fall :
They'll grieve I was not loos'd before ;

She, I was loos'd at all.”

• The Earl of Essex married Lady Jane Hyde. Fondness prevail'd, mamma gave way;

Kitty, at heart's desire, Obtain'd the chariot for a day,

And set the world on fire.

THE DESPAIRING SHEPHERD. ALEXIS shunn'd his fellow-swains, Their rural sports, and jocund strains :

(Heaven guard us all from Cupid's bow !) He lost his crook, he left his flocks ; And, wandering through the lonely rocks,

He nourish'd endless woe.

The nymphs and shepherds round him came :
His grief some pity, others blame ;

The fatal cause all kindly seek :
He mingled his concern with theirs ;
He gave them back their friendly tears ;

He sigh'd, but would not speak.

Clorinda came amongst the rest ;
And she too kind concern exprest,

And ask'd the reason of his woe :
She ask'd, but with an air and mien,
That made it easily foreseen,

She fear'd too much to know.

The shepherd rais'd his mournful head; “ And will you pardon me,” he said,

“ While I the cruel truth reveal ?

RS

Which nothing from my breast should tear; Which never should offend your ear,

But that you bid me tell.

“ 'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain, Since you appear'd upon the plain ;

You are the cause of all my care ; Your eyes ten thousand dangers dart; Ten thousand torments vex my heart:

I love, and I despair.”

“ Too much, Alexis, I have heard :
'Tis what I thought ; 'tis what I fear'd:

And yet I pardon you,” she cried : “ But you shall promise ne'er again To breathe your vows, or speak your pain :

He, bow'd, obey'd, and dy'd.

AN ODE.

The merchant, to secure his treasure,

Conveys it in a borrow'd name : Euphelia serves to grace my measure;

But Chloe is my real flame.

My softest verse, my darling lyre,

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay ; When Chloe noted her desire,

That I should sing, that I should play.

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,

But with iny numbers mix my sighs ; And, whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,

I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.

Fair Chloe blush'd: Euphelia frown'd;

I sung, and gaz'd; I play'd, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around

Remark’d, how ill we all dissembled.

THE LADY'S LOOKING-GLASS.

IX IMITATION OF A GREEK IDYLLIUM.

CELIA and I, the other day,
Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea:
The setting Sun adorn'd the coast,
His beams entire, his fierceness lost:
And, on the surface of the deep,
The winds lay only not asleep :
The nymph did like the scene appear,
Serenely pleasant, calmly fair :
Soft fell her words, as flew the air.
With secret joy I heard her say,
That she would never miss one day
A walk so fine, a sight so gay.

But, oh the change! the winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars,
And big waves lash the frighten'd shores.
Struck with the horrour of the sight,
She turns her head, and wings her flight :

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