On a Lady indifpos'd.
LAVIA's eyes, like fires fupprefs'd,
More fiercely flame again;
Nor can her beauty be decreas'd,
Nor alter'd by her pain.
Thofe various charms which round her play,
And do her face adorn,
Still as they ripen fall away,
Fresh beauties ftill are born.
So doth it with the lovers fare,
Who do the dame adore ;
One fit of love kill'd by defpair,
Another rages more.
A Youth, who fordly did expose
His love to every fwain,
Thought to indulge his eafe by thofe
Who most increas'd his pain.
Too foon, alas too foon, in vain,
The jealous fhepherd found,
That who in love wou'd fhun the pain,
Had best conceal the wound.
tell Amynta, gentle swain,
I wou'd not die, nor dare complain:
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy words will more prevail than mine;
For fouls opprefs'd and dumb with grief,
The gods ordain'd this kind relief;
That mufick fhou'd in founds convey
What dying lovers dare not fay.
A figh, or tear, perhaps, the'll give ;
But love on pity cannot live.
Tell her, that hearts for hearts were made,
And love with love is only paid.
Tell her, my pains fo faft increase,
That foon they will be paft redress.
For ah! the wretch that fpeechless lies,
Attends but death to close his eyes.
LY from Olinda, young and fair;
Fly from her foft engaging air,
And wit, in woman found fo rare:
Altho' her looks to love advise,
Her yet unconquer'd heart denies,.
And breaks the promise of her eyes.
When chaste Dorinda fings of love?
It charms the troubled foul to rest,
And makes a calm in every breast:
With various kinds of harmony,
She ftrikes at once the ear and eye:
So foft her voice, and fhe fo fair,
Gives double fweetness to the air.
The wretched fhepherd dumb with pain,
And grief too heavy to complain,
When foft Dorinda tunes her voice,
Forgets his woe, and dreams of joys.
Oh, lovely charmer! be so kind,
To ease sometimes a wretch's mind;
His groans with gentle founds controul,
And breath a balın into his foul.
'LL tell you, my Celia, if never before
Thou hast heard of the pleasures that love has in True love is a flame that for ever burns bright, And time cannot quench or diminish its light: To none but love's emp'ricks 'tis loft when erjoy'd; For they never lov'd truly, that ever were cloy'd..
DID but look and love a while,
'Twas but for one half hour;
Then to refift I had no will,,
And now I have no power.
To figh, and wish, is all my ease;
Sighs, which do heat impart,
Erough to melt the coldest ice,
Yet cannot warm your heart.
Oh! wou'd your pity give my heart
One corner of your breast;
'Twou'd learn of your's the winning art,
And quickly fteal the reft.
THEN young Milanda's fingers move
The trembling ftrings, my heart beats love;
My foul the motion does obey,
I tremble too as well as they.
But when with heav'nly voice fhe fings,
When vocal founds their filence break,
And marry with the trembling ftrings,
With love and rapture too, I shake.
T dead of night, when rapt in fleep
The peaceful cottage lay,
Paftora left her folded sheep,
Her garland, crook, and useless serip;
Love led the nymph astray.
Loofe and undrefs'd fhe takes her flight
To a near myrtle fhade;
The conscious moon gave all her light,
To bless her ravifh'd lover's fight,
And guide the loving maid.
His eager arms the nymph embrace,
And, to affwage his pain,
His restless paffion he obeys:
At fuch an hour, in such a place,
What lover cou'd contain?
In vain she call'd the confcious moon,
The moon no fuccour gave:
The cruel stars unmov'd look on,
And seem'd to smile at what was done,
Nor wou'd her honour fave.
Vanquish'd at last, by pow'rful love,
The nymph expiring lay;
No more fhe figh'd, no more she strove,
Since no kind stars were found above,
She blush'd and dy'd away.
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