To fum

up all the rage of fate

In the two things I dread and hate,
May'st thou be falfe, and I be great!

}

Thus, on his Celia's panting breast, Fond Celadon his foul expreft; While with delight the lovely maid Receiv'd the vows, the thus repaid: 25

Hope of my age, joy of my youth, Bleft miracle of love and truth; All that could e'er be counted mine, My love and life, long fince are thine :

A real joy I never knew,

Till I believ'd thy passion true:

A real grief I ne'er can find,

Till thou prov'ft perjur'd, or unkind.
Contempt, and poverty, and care,
All we abhor, and all we fear,

30

}

Bleft with thy prefence, I can bear.
Thro' waters and thro' flames I'll go,
Suff'rer and folace of thy woe:
Trace me fome yet unheard-of way,
That I thy ardour may repay;
And make my constant paffion known,
By more than woman yet has done.

Had I a wish that did not bear

40

The ftamp and image of my dear;
I'd pierce my heart through ev'ry vein,
And die, to let it out again.

46

No: Venus fhall my witness be,
(If Venus ever lov'd like me)
That for one hour I would not quit
My fhepherd's arms, and this retreat, 50
To be the Perfian monarch's bride,
Partner of all his pow'r and pride;
Or rule in regal state above,
Mother of Gods, and wife of Jove.

O happy thefe of human race!
But foon, alas! our pleafures pafs. 56
He thank'd her on his bended knee;
Then drank a quart of milk and tea;
And, leaving her ador'd embrace,
Haften'd to court to beg

place.

While she, his absence to bemoan,

The very moment he was gone,

Call'd Thyrfis from beneath the bed!
Where all this time he had been hid.

MORAL.

60

WHILE men have these ambitious fancies;

And wanton wenches read romances;
Our fex will---What? Out with it. Lie;
And their's in equal ftrains reply.

The moral of the tale I fing

(A pofy for a wedding-ring)

In this fhort verfe will be confin'd:
Love is a jeft; and vows are wind,

70

THE GARLAND.

BY THE SAME.

I.

THE pride of every grove I chose,
The violet fweet, and lilly fair,
The dappl'd pink, and blushing rofe,
To deck my charming Cloe's hair.

II.

At morn the nymph vouchsaft to place
Upon her brow the various wreath;
The flow'rs lefs blooming than her face,
The scent lefs fragrant than her breath.

III.

The flow'rs she wore along the day :

And ev'ry nymph and fhepherd said, That in her hair they lookt more gay Than glowing in their native bed.

IV.

Undreft at evening, when the found
Their odours loft, their colours paft;
She chang'd her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eye she cast.

5

10

16

V.

That eye dropt sense distinct and clear, any Mufe's tongue could speak,

As

When from its lid a pearly tear

Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

VI.

Diffembling what I knew too well,

My love, my life, faid I, explain This change of humour: pr'ythee tell : That falling tear-what does it mean?

VII.

She figh'd; fhe fmil'd: and to the flow'rs
Pointing, the lovely moralist faid;
See! friend, in some few fleeting hours,
See yonder, what a change is made!

VIII.

Ah me! the blooming pride of May,

And that of beauty, are but one:
At morn both flourish bright and
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.

IX.

gay;

At dawn poor Stella danc'd and fung;
The am'rous youth around her bow'd;

At night her fatal knell was rung;

I faw, and kiss'd her in her fhrowd.

21

26

30

35

X.

Such as fhe is, who dy'd to-day;
Such I, alas! may be to-morrow:
Go, Damon, bid thy Mufe difplay
The justice of thy Cloe's forrow.

A LOVER'S ANGER.

40

BY THE SAME.

As Cloe came into the room t'other day,

I peevish began; Where fo long could you ftay? In your life-time you never regarded your hour: You promis'd at two; and (pray look, child) 'tis four.

A lady's watch needs neither figures nor wheels; 5 'Tis enough, that 'tis loaded with baubles and feals. A temper fo heedlefs no mortal can bear

Thus far I went on with a refolute air.

Lord blefs me! faid fhe; let a body but speak : Here's an ugly hard rose-bud fall'n into my neck: It has hurt me, and vext me to fuch a degree— See here for you never believe me; pray fee,