NOT an angel dwells above,

Half fo fair as her I love;
Heaven knows how fhe'll receive me :
If fhe fmiles, I'm bleft indeed;
If the frowns, I'm quickly freed;
Heaven knows the ne'er can grieve me.

None can love her more than I;.
Yet fhe ne'er fhall make me die.
If my flame can never warm her,.
Lafting beauty I'll adore,

I thall never love her morė,
Cruelty will fo deform her.

ALSE and mean's the accusation,

FALS

With which men the fair afperfe;
Fools, they fay's their darling paffion,
Women are to fenfe averse.

Jove, adorn'd in all his glory,
Coy Antiope cou'd never move:
A fatyr's fhape, in the fame ftory,
Made the god fuccessful prove.

But it was as towns are conquer'd,

That too much their foe defpife; Secure, in fcorn, they fleep unguarded, So are taken by furprize.

Sung

Man. AH! lovely nymph, the world's on fire:

Veil, veil thofe cruel eyes.

Wom. The world may then in flames expire,
And boast that fo it dies.

Man. But, when all mortals are destroy'd,
Who then shall fing your praise?
Wom. Those who are fit to be employ'd ;
The gods shall altars raise.

Kindness to a common Woman excus'd.

OU laugh to fee me fond appear

YOU

Of one not worth the part,

A wretch by nature infincere,

And amorous by art.

Wrong not a well-meant honest flame,

To Lais undefign'd;

'Tis to her fex, not her, I am

So ardent and fo kind.

Where now's the mighty diff'rence shown

In what we diff'rent do;

One feigns to all alike, and one

To all alike is true.

As both have hundreds done before,

Each other we carefs;

Impartial fhe no man loves more,
And I no woman less.

VOL. II.

T

WHAT

GARMON

WHAT is beauty? What is youth?

Without honour, faith, or truth.

What is glory? What is blood?
Without fhame, or being good.

Joys enfnaring, madness attick; Pride bewitching, greatness frantick: 'Tis virtue only can fuffice

To make fond love both chafte and wife.

Chorus. Hark, bark, how they die,
Forgotten never ;

Whose names, like pyramids rais'd to the sky,
Are conftant ever.

Shall a mistress fair require Service, humbled with defire? Shall a look, a toy, a smile, Chain a heart, or faith beguile ?

No, oh no, fhe will be ranging,
Who is in her favours changing:
Wou'd love's bright sphere in glory move!
Tis there where virtue fhines with love.

Chorus. Come, come, come, you who are
Oppreft by duty;

Learn to distinguish from a falling star,

A true fix'd beauty.

The

The kind Reception.

HOU'D auld acquaintance be forgot,

SHOU

Tho' they return with scars?

These are the noble hero's lot,
Obtain'd in glorious wars:
Welcome, my Varo, to my breast,
Thy arms about me twine,
And make me once again as bleft,
As I was lang fyne.

Methinks around us, on each bough,
A thousand Cupids play;

Whilft thro' the groves I walk with you,
Each object makes me gay:
Since your return, the fun and moon
With brighter beams do fhine,
Streams murmur foft notes while they run,
As they did lang fyne.

Despise the court, and din of state;

Let that to their fhare fall,
Who can esteem such slavery great,
While bounded like a ball;

But, funk in love, upon my arms
Let your brave head recline,

We'll please our felves with mutual charms,

As we did lang fyne.

T 2

O'er

O'er moor and dale, with your gay friend,

You may pursue the chace,

And, after a blyth bottle, end

All cares in my embrace : And in a vacant rainy day,

You shall be wholly mine;

We'll make the hours run fmooth away,

And laugh at lang fyne.

The hero pleas'd with the fweet air,
And figns of gen'rous love,

Which had been utter'd by the fair,
Bow'd to the pow'rs above:
Next day, with confent and glad haste,

They approach'd the facred fhrine,
Where the good priest the couple blest,
And put them out of pine.

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