IV.

The Tears of AмYNTA, for the Death of DAMON.

SONG.

I.

Na bank, befide a willow,

ON

Heaven her covering, earth her pillow,

Sad Amynta figh'd alone :

From the chearless dawn of morning

Till the dews of night returning,

Sighing thus fhe made her moan :
Hope is banish'd,

Joys are vanifh'd,

Damon, my belov'd, is gone!

II.

Time, I dare thee to discover Such a youth, and fuch a lover;' Oh! fo true, fo kind was he ! Damon was the pride of nature, Charming in his every feature; Damon liv'd alone for me; Melting kiffes,

Murmuring bliffes :

Who fo liv'd and lov'd as we!

III.

Never fhall we curse the morning,

Never bless the night returning,
Sweet embraces to restore :
Never fhall we both lie dying,
Nature failing, Love fupplying

All

All the joys he drain'd before:
Death, come end me

To befriend me;

Love and Damon are no more.

S

མ.

A SON G.

I.

YLVIA the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,

Felt an innocent warmth, as he lay on the green : She had heard of a pleasure, and fomething the guest By the towzing, and tumbling, and touching her breast; She faw the men eager, but was at a lofs,

What they meant by their fighing, and kiffing so close;
By their praying and whining,

And clafping and twining,
And panting and wishing,

And fighing and kissing,

And fighing and kiffing fo clofe.
il.

Ah! she cry'd; ah for a languishing maid,
In a country of Chriftians, to die without aid!
Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Proteftant parfon, or Catholic priest,
T'instruct a young virgin, that is at a lofs,
What they meant by their fighing, and kiffing fo clofe!
By their praying and whining,

And clasping and twining,
And panting and wifhing,

And fighing and kiffing,
And fighing and kising so close.

III.

Cupid in shape of a swain did appear,

He faw the fad wound, and in pity drew near;
Then fhow'd her his arrow, and bid her not fear;
For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear :
When the balm was infus'd, fhe was not at a loss,
What they meant by their fighing, and kiffing so close;
By their praying and whining,

And clafping and twining,

And panting and wifhing,

And fighing and kiffing,

And fighing and kiffing fo clofe.

VI.

THE LADY'S SON G.

I.

A Choir of bright beauties in fpring did appear,

To choose a May-lady to govern the year;

All the nymphs were in white, and the fhepherds in

green;

The garland was given, and Phyllis was queen:

But Phyllis refus'd it, and fighing did fay,

I'll not wear a garland while Pan is away.

II.

While Pan, and fair Syrinx, are fled from our fhore,
The Graces are banifh'd, and Love is no more:
The foft God of pleafure, that warm'd our defires,
Has broken his bow, and extinguish'd his fires :
And vows that himfelf, and his mother, will mourn,
Till Pan and fair Syrinx in triumph return.

III. Forbear

Forbear

III.

your addreffes, and court us no more; For we will perform what the Deity swore :

But if you dare think of deferving our charms,

Away with your fheephooks, and take to your arms:
Then laurels and myrtles your brows fhall adorn,
When Pan, and his fon, and fair Syrinx, return.

F

VII.

A SO N G.

I.

AIR, fweet, and young, receive a prize
Referv'd for your victorious eyes :
From crouds, whom at your feet
O pity, and diftinguish me!

you fee,

As I from thoufand beauties more
Diftinguish you, and only you adore.

II.

Your face for conqueft was defign'd,
Your every motion charms my mind;
Angels, when you your filence break,
Forget their hymns, to hear you speak ;
But when at once they hear and view,

Are loth to mount, and long to ftay with you.
III.

No graces can your form improve,
But all are loft, unless you love;
While that sweet paffion you difdain,
Your veil and beauty are in vain :
In pity then prevent my fate,

For after dying all reprieve 's too late.

VOL. II.

P

A SONG.

A SON G.

VIII.

HIGH ftate and honours to others impart,

But give me your heart :

That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.

So gentle a love, fo fervent a fire,
My foul does infpire ;
That treasure, that treasure alone,
I beg for my own.
Your love let me crave;
Give me in poffeffing

So matchlefs a blessing;

That empire is all I would have.

Love's my petition,

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