WE

HY, cruel creature, why fo bent
To vex a tender heart?

To gold and title you relent;
Love throws away his dart.

Let glitt'ring fools in courts be great;

For pay let armies move: Beauty fhou'd have no other bait, But gentle vows and love.

If on those endless charms you lay
The value that's their due,
Kings are themselves too poor to pay,
A thousand worlds too few.

But, if a paffion without vice,
Without disguise or art,

Ah, Celia! if true love's your price,

Behold it in my heart.

CLARINDA

CLARINDA, the pride of the plain,

So fam'd for her conquering charms, Repenting her fcorn of a fwain,

Sat pensive, and folding her arms.

Her lute, and her fhining attire,
Neglected, were laid at her fide;
While, pining with hopeless defire,
The damfel thus mournfully cry'd:

Oh! cou'd the past hours but return,
When I triumph'd in Angelot's heart,
Clarinda wou'd mutually burn,

Wou'd mutually fuffer the fmart:

But, far from the plain he is gone!
Enjoys the sweet smiles of a fair,
Whose kindness the fhepherd has won;
And Clarinda no more is his care.

How oft at these feet has he lain,
Bewailing his forrowful fate!
But, all his complaints were in vain,
I foolishly doated on state.

I long'd to be gaz'd on in town,

To fparkle in golden array;

By my drefs, and my charms to be known,

In the park, and at every new play.

I thought

I thought, without grandeur and fame,
That marriage no bleffing cou'd prove;
Some wealthy young heir was my aim;
And I flighted poor Angelot's love.

Such madness befotted my mind,

I receiv'd all his fighs with difdain;
I regarded his vows but as wind,
And fcornfully fmil'd at his pain.

How happy my fortune had been,
Cou'd my reafon have conquer'd my pride!
In bliss I had rivall'd a queen ;

Had been my dear Angelot's bride :

With him more content I had found
Than grandeur and fame can fupply;
For his fondness my wishes had crown'd,
With a paffion that never wou'd die.

I had feasted, with innocent joy,
On the pleasures of kindness and ease;
While the fears which the great one's annoy,
Had ne'er interrupted my peace.

But ah! that glad profpect is gone!

His love I can never regain :

And the lofs I fhall ever bemoan,

Till death fhall relieve me from pain.

Thus wail'd the sad nymph, all in tears,
When the swain to the green did advance ;

In his hand his new confort appears,

With a train, gaily join'd, in a dance.

;

Impa

Impatient, and fick at the fight,

To the neighbouring grove the retir'd, (Once the scene of her daily delight) And fainting, in filence, expir'd.

I

CANNOT figh and wish alone,
Tho' to fpeak may be in vain;

I ne'er can be afraid to own

A paffion I must entertain.

If thou this addrefs accufe,

Blame thy faulty charms, not me; 'Tis but just they shou'd excufe, Since they caus'd this liberty.

A moderate paffion unreveal'd,
Smother'd in my breast had been;
As dying embers may, conceal'd,
Burn awhile, and not be seen:
But when wit and beauty join,
Such a fire as mine to raise,
Who can its fierce rage confine?
It must needs burft forth, and blaze.

CYNDERAXA

CROCKERquotes

CYN

YNDERAX A, kind and good,
Has all my heart and stomach too;
She makes me love, not loath, my food,
As other peevish wenches do.

When Venus leaves her Vulcan's cell,
Which all, but I, a cole-hole call;
Fly, fly, ye that above stairs dwell,
Her face is wash'd, ye vanish all.

And, as she's fair, she can impart

That beauty, to make all things fine; Brightens the floor with wondrous art, And at her touch the dishes shine.

FOOLISH Love, be gone, said I;

Vain are thy attempts on me,

Thy foft allurements I defy;
Women, those fair diffemblers, fly;
My heart is not made for thee.

Love heard, and straight prepar'd a dart;
Myra, revenge my caufe, faid he :
Too fure 'twas fhot; I feel the smart,
It rends my brain, and tears my heart:
O Love! my conqueror, pity me.

AURELIA,