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WHIL

HILE Corydon, the lovely shepherd, try'd
His tuneful flute, and charm'd the
grove,
The jealous nightingales, that ftrove
To trace his notes, contending dy'd,
At laft he hears, within a myrtle shade,
An eccho anfwer all his ftrain:

Love ftole the pipe of fleeping Pan, and play'd,
Then with his voice decoys the lift'ning swain.

Gay charmer, to befriend thee,

Here pleafing fcenes attend thee,

O this way speed thy pace:
If mufick can delight thee,
Or vifions fair invite thee,

This bower's the happy place.

The fhepherd rofe, he gaz'd around,
And vainly fought the magick found;
The wanton god his motion fpies,
Lays by the pipe, and fhoots a dart
Through Corydon's unwary heart,

Then fmiling from his ambush flies;

While in his room, divinely bright,

The reigning beauty of the groves furpriz'd the fhep

(herd's fight.

Who, from love his heart fecuring,
Can avoid th' inchanting pain:
Pleafure calls, with voice alluring,
Beauty foftly binds the chain.

COME,

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OME, my Celia, let us prove,
While we can, the fports of love;
Time will not be ours for ever,
He at length our good will fever;
Spend not then his gifts in vain:
Suns that fet may rise again,
But if once we lose this light,
"Tis with us perpetual night.
Why fhou'd we defer our joys?
Fame and rumour are but toys.
Cannot we delude the eyes
Of a few poor houshold spies?
'Tis no fin love's fruits to fteal;
But the sweet thefts to reveal:
To be taken, to be seen,

Thefe have crimes accounted been.

VOL. III.

T

To

To the agreeable Memory of Two Sifters, who lived and died together.

SILV

LVIA, DELIA, sweetest pair,
Since no longer you are feen,

Dull is every wake and fair;

Nothing thrives but willow green.

Muft the witty, fair, and good,
Die unheeded, with the throng; t

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With their names adorn his fong.

Who fhall now the garland wear,
To increase the pride of May?
Who fhall crown our Christmas cheer,
And make winter's felf look gay?

Who in wit fhall gain the prize,
Tedious time and care beguile
With fweet tales and quick replies,
Make e'en age and forrow smile?

Who fhall now, the dances call

When the tuneful strings alarm, And our hearts beat time to all,

E'ery step and look a charm?

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Thefe are joys we once did know;

But, alas! no more must prove:
Who fuch angels were below,
Now augment the choir above.

Lovely in their lives they were,
In one fate together join'd;
Death to us was too fevere,
But to them was doubly kind.

Had he took one charming maid,

Not the world of both bereft,

We, with truth, then might have faid,
That there was her equal left.

1 W

CLOE

LOE blufh'd, and frown'd, and fwore,
And push'd me rudely from her;
I call'd her faithlefs jilting whore,

To talk to me of honour.

A

4

But when I rofe, and wou'd be gone,
She cry'd; Nay, whither go ye?,,
Young Damon, ftay; now we're alone,
Do what you will with Cloe.

T

I

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W

HILST Alexis lay prest

In her arms he lov'd beft,

With his hand round her neck,

And his head on her breast,

He found the fierce pleasure too hafty to stay,
And his foul in the tempest just flying away.

When Celia faw this,

With a figh, and a kiss,

She cry'd, oh my dear, I am robb'd of my blifs; "Tis unkind to your love, and unfaithfully done, To leave me behind you, and die all alone.

The youth, tho' in hafte,

And breathing his last,

In pity dy'd flowly, while fhe dy'd more faft;

Till at length fhe cry'd--Now, my dear, now let us go,

Now die, my Alexis, and I will die too.

Thus intranc'd they did lie,

Till Alexts did try,

To recover new breath, that again he might die:
Then often they dy'd; but the more they did so,
The nymph dy'd more quick, and the fhepherd more

(flow.

AFTER

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