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And see, through yonder silent grove,
See yonder does my Daphne rove:
With pride her foot-steps I pursue,
And bid your frantic joys adieu.

The fole confusion I admire,
Is that my Daphne's eyes inspire :
I scorn the madness you approve,
And value reason next to love.

YES

V. Imitated from the FRENCH.
ES, these are the scenes where with Iris I stray'd ;

But short was her sway for so lovely a maid ;
In the bloom of her youth to a cloister the run ;
In the bloom of her graces, too fair for a nun!
Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must

prove So fatal to beauty, so killing to love !

Yes, these are the meadows, the shrubs and the plains;
Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains ;
How many soft moments I spent in this grove !
How fair was my nymph! and how fervent my love !
Be still though, my heart ! thine emotion give o'er;
Remember, the season of love is no more.

With her how I stray'd amid fountains and bow'rs,
Or loiter'd behind and collected the flow'rs!
Then breathless with ardor my fair-one pursu'd,
And to think with what kindness my garland she view'd!
But be still, my fond heart ! this emotion give o'er ;
Fain wouldst thou forget thou must love her no more.

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H

ERE in cool grot, and mossy cell,

We rural fays and faeries dwell :
Though rarely seen by mortal eye,

,
When the pale moon, ascending high,
Darts through yon' limes her quivering beams,
We frisk it near these crystal streams.

Her beams, reflected from the wave,
Afford the light our revels crave;
The turf, with daisies broider'd o'er,
Exceeds, we wot, the Parian Aoor ;
Nor
yet

for artful strains we call, But listen to the water's fall.

Would

Would you then taste our tranquil scene,
Be sure your bosoms be serene ;
Devoid of hate, devoid of strife,
Devoid of all that poisons life;
And much it ’vails you, in their place,
To graft the love of human race.

And tread with awe these favour'd bow'rs,
Nor wound the shrubs nor bruise the flow'rs;
So may your paths with sweets abound !
So may your couch with reft be crown'd!
But harm betide the wayward swain,
Who dares our hallow'd haunt profane !

OBERON.

O

II. In a shady-Valley, near a running Water.

! Let me haunt this peaceful shade;

Nor let ambition e'er invade
The tenants of this leafy bow'r,
That shun her paths, and flight her pow'r.

Hither the plaintive halcyon Aies
From social meads and open skies;
Pleas'd, by this rill, her course to steer,
And hide her saphire plumage here.

The

The trout, bedropt with crimson stains,
Forsakes the river's proud domains ;
Forsakes the sun's unwelcome gleam,
To lurk within this humble stream.

And sure I heard the Naiad say,

Flow, flow, my stream! this devious way;
Though lovely soft thy murmurs are,
Thy waters, lovely cool and fair !
Flow, gentle stream! nor let the vain

Thy small unsully'd stores disdain :
“ Nor let the pensive fage repine,
“ Whofe latent course resembles thine."

III. On a small Building in the Gothic Taste.

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Bo mạp He pardonne fraud and strife,

If such in courtige haunt he fee : #02 faults there beene in buspe ipfe,

from whgehe these peacefull glennes are fete. 000000000000*Q8Q8Q0000000

A Pastoral BALL AD, in Four Parts.

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Written 1743.

By the Same.
Arbusta bumilesque myrice.

VIRG,

I. ABSENCE.

Y

I.
E shepherds so cheerful and gay,

Whose Aocks never carelessly roam ;
Should Corydon's happen to stray,

Oh! call the poor wanderers home,
Allow me to muse and to figh,

Nor talk of the change that ye find;
None once was so watchful as I:
- I have left my dear Phyllis behind.

II.

Now I know what it is, to have strove

With the torture of doubt and desire; What it is, to admire and to love,

And to leave her we love and admire.

Ah

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