Let either fix the dart.

Poor girl! (fays Caelia) fay no more;
For fhou'd the fwain but one adore,

That spite which broke his chains before,
Wou'd break the other's heart.

MY

S O N G.

Y days have been fo wond'rous free,
The little birds that fly

With careless ease from tree to tree,

Were but as blefs'd as I.

Afk gliding waters, if a tear

Of mine increas'd their stream?

Or afk the flying gales, if e'er
I lent one figh to them?

But now my former days retire,
And I'm by beauty caught,
The tender chains of fweet defire
Are fix'd upon my thought.

Ye nightingales, ye twisting pines!
Ye fwains that haunt the grove!
Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds!
Ye clofe retreats of love!

With all of nature, all of art,

Affift the dear defign;

O teach a young unpractis'd heart, To make my Nancy mine.

The very thought of change I hate,
As much as of despair;
Nor ever covet to be great,
Unless it be for her.

'Tis true, the paffion in my mind
Is mix'd with foft diftrefs;

Yet while the fair I love is kind,
I cannot wish it lefs.

ANACREONTIC.

WE

HEN Spring came on with fresh delight,
To chear the foul, and charm the fight,

While eafy breezes, fofter rain,

And warmer funs falute the plain; 'Twas then, in yonder piny grove,

That Nature went to meet with Love.

Green was her robe, and green her wreath,

Where-e'er fhe trod, 'twas green

beneath;
Where-e'er she turn'd, the pulfes beat
With new recruits of genial heat;
And in her train the birds appear,

To match for all the coming year.
Rais'd on a bank, where daizys grew,

And vi'lets intermix'd a blue,

She finds the boy fhe went to find;
A thoufand pleasures wait behind,
Afide, a thousand arrows ly,

But all unfeather'd wait to fly.

When they met, the Dame and Boy,

Dancing Graces, idle Joy,

Wanton Smiles, and airy Play,

Coufpir'd to make the scene be gay;

Love pair'd the birds through all the grove,
And nature bid them sing to love,

Sitting, hopping, flutt'ring, fing,
And pay their tribute from the wing,
To fledge the shafts that idle ly,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly.

'Tis thus, when spring renews the blood,
They meet in ev'ry trembling wood,
And thrice they make the plumes agree,
And ev'ry dart they mount with three,
And ev'ry dart can boast a kind,
Which fuits each proper turn of mind.
From the tow'ring Eagle's plume
The gen'rous hearts accept their doom;
Shot by the peacock's painted eye
The vain and airy lovers dye :
For careful dames and frugal men,
The fhafts are fpeckled by the hen.
The Pyes and Parrots deck the darts,
When prattling wins the panting hearts:
When from the voice the paffions fpring,
The warbling Finch affords a wing:
Together, by the Sparrow ftung,
Down fall the wanton and the young:
And fledg'd by Geese the weapons fly,
When others love they know not why.
All this (as late I chanc'd to rove)

I learn'd in yonder waving grove.
And fee, fays Love, (who call'd me near)
How much I deal with Nature here,

How both support a proper part,
She gives the feather, I the dart:
Then cease for fouls averse to figh,
If nature cross you,
fo do I;

My weapon there unfeather'd flies,

And shakes and shuffles through the skies.
But if the mutual charms I find

By which she links you, mind to mind,
They wing my shafts, I poize the darts,
And strike from both, through both your hearts.

G

ANACREONTI C.

AY Bacchus liking Eftcourt's wine,
A noble meal bespoke us;

And for the guests that were to dine,
Brought Comus, Love, and Jocus.

The God near Cupid drew his chair,
Near Comus, Jocus plac'd;
For Wine makes Love forget its care,
And Mirth exalts a feast.

The more to please the sprightly God,
Each sweet engaging Grace
Put on fome cloaths to come abroad,

And took a waiter's place.

C