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Yet bleft the grove, her conscious flight,
And youth that did betray;
And panting, dying with delight,
She bleft the kind transporting night,
And curs'd approaching day.

CORINNA, I excufe thy face,

Those erring lines which nature drew;

When I reflect that every grace
Thy mind adorns, is juft and true,

But oh! thy wit what god has fent,
Surprising, airy, unconfin'd;
Some wonder, fure, Apollo meant,
And fhot himself into thy mind.

YOUNG

YOUNG Damon, once the happiest swain,
The pride and glory of the plain ;

But fee th' effects of love!
Depriv'd of all his former reft,
Shun'd company, with grief opprest ;
And fought the thickeft grove.

The nymphs and fwains all ftrove to find
What 'twas difturb'd the fhepherd's mind;

But, when they begg'd to know,

He only shook his drooping head,
And fighing, mournfully, he faid,
My fate will have it fo!

Myrtilla, hearing of his woes,

Came too, and kindly ask'd the cause
Of all his mighty pain:

The youth tranfported, and amaz'd
To hear her charming voice, foon rais'd
His head, and thus began:

I love; but 'tis a nymph so fair,
That I of all fuccess despair,

And nought expect but fcorn:

But oh! forgive, fince ask'd by you,

If further I my tale pursue;

Then fay, for you I burn,

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The nymph then blufh'd, and, fmiling, faid,
And is it thus you court à maid?
You'll by experience find,

The fair's not won by dull despair ;
But to the brave and debonair

Our fex will e'er prove kind.

I SAW, I gaz'd, I figh'd, I lov'd

The charming beauteous fair; My fecret flame did force my foul Its paffion to declare.

Where wit and beauty do contend,
Which has the greatest store,

Where fuch all conquering charms command,
'Tis hard not to adore.

Indif

Lo

Indifference excus'd.

OVE, when 'tis true, needs not the aid
Of fighs nor oaths to make it known;
And, to convince the cruell'ft maid,
Lovers fhou'd ufe their love alone,

Into their very looks 'twill steal;

And he that most wou'd hide his flame,
Does in that care his pain reveal:
Silence itself can love proclaim.

This, my Aurelia, made me fhun
The paths that common lovers tread ;
Whofe guilty paffions are begun,

Not in their heart, but in their head.

I cou'd not figh, and with crofs'd arms
Accuse your rigour and my fate;
Nor tax your beauty with fuch charms
As men adore, and women hate,

But, careless liv'd, and without art,

Knowing my love you must have spy'd;

And thinking it a foolish part,

To ftrive to show, what none can hide.

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AS

S Chloris, full of harmless thought,
Beneath a myrtle lay,

Kind love a youthful shepherd brought,
To pafs the time away.

She blush'd to be encounter'd fo,

And chid the am'rous fwain ;
But, as the ftrove to rife and go,
He pull'd her down again,
A fudden paffion seiz'd her heart,
In spite of her disdain;

She found a pulse in every part,

And love in every vein.

Ah! gods, faid fhe, what charms are thefe,

That conquer and furprize?

Oh! let me — for, unless you please,

I have no pow'r to rise.

She fainting fpoke, and trembling lay,
For fear he fhou'd comply;

Her looks and eyes her heart betray,
And gave her tongue the lie.

Thus the, who princes had deny'd,

With all their pomp and train, Was in a lucky minute try'd, And yielded to a swain.

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