Vain futile idols, bird or flow'r, To tempt a votary's pray'r !-How would his humble homage tow'r Should he behold my Fair! Yes-might the pagan's waking eyes, SONG SONG X. 1743. HE fatal hours are wonderous near, THE fatal hours are wonderous n That, from these fountains, bear my A little space is giv'n; in vain; A little space, for me to prove Near yonder beech is DELIA's way, The chief, that knows of fuccours nigh, To fee the loitering aids advance. Not more, the school-boy that expires dear; She She comes-but ah! what crouds of beaux Methinks, by all my tender fears, 'Tis more than death to part from thee ! VOL. 1. M SONG SONG XI. 1744. PERHAPS it is not love, faid I, That melts my foul when FLAVIA's nigh Where wit and fenfe like her's agree, One may be pleas'd, and yet be free. The beauties of her polifh'd mind, It is not love-averse to bear Oh! when did wit fo brightly fhine any form lefs fair than thine? It is it is love's fubtle fire, And under friendship lurks defire, SONG SONG XII. 1744 'ER defert plains, and rufhy meers, defere Where tree, nor fpire, nor cot appears, But tho' my path were damask'd o'er My bufy thoughts would fly before, No fir-crown'd hills cou'd give delight, No palace please mine eye; No pyramid's aerial height, Where mouldering monarchs lie. Unmov'd, should Eastern kings advance; Could I the pageant see : Splendour might catch one fcornful glance, |