SON G.

I.

WHY we love, and why we hate,

Is not granted us to know:

Random chance, or wilful fate,
Guides the fhaft from Cupid's bow.

WE

Ever fhall the M ufes mourn;

Sadly fhall their numbers flow,

Ever elegant in woe.

Thoufands, nobly born, fhall die,
Thousands in oblivion lie,

Names, which leave no trace behind,
Like the clouds before the wind,
When the dusky shadows pafs,
Lightly fleeting o'er the grafs.

But, O Halifax, thy name
Shall through ages rife in fame:
Sweet remembrance fhalt thou find,

Sweet in every noble mind.

02

To

To the HONOURABLE

MISS

BL

CARTERET.

LOOM of beauty, early flower
Of the blissful bridal bower,
Thou, thy parents pride and care,
Faireft offspring of the fair,
Lovely pledge of mutual love,
Angel feeming from above,
Was it not thou day by day
Doft thy very fex betray,
Female more and more appear,
Female, more than angel dear,
How to speak thy face and mien,
(Soon too dangerous to be seen)
How fhall I, or fhall the Muse,
Language of resemblance chufe?
Language like thy mien and face,
Full of fweetness, full of grace

By the next returning spring,
When again the linnets fing,
When again the lambkins play,
Pretty sportlings full of May,
When the meadows next are feen,
Sweet enamel white and green,
And the year in fresh attire,
Welcomes every gay defire,
Blooming on fhalt thou appear
More inviting than the year,

12

16

20

24

With a span of ribbon brac'd,
And the fwell of either breaft,
And the wide high-vaulted cheft,
And the neck fo white and round,
Little neck with brilliants bound,

And the ftore of charms which fhine
Above, in lineaments divine,

Crowded in a narrow space

To complete the defperate face,
These alluring powers, and more,
Shall enamour'd youths adore;
Thefe, and more, in courtly lays,
Many an aking heart shall praise.
Happy thrice, and thrice again,
Happiest he of happy men,

44

48

52

56 Who,