A

To bis Miftrefs.

LL nature blooms when you appear, The fields their lovelieft liv'ry wear; Oaks, elms, and pines, bleft with your view, Shoot out fresh greens, and bud anew. Each changing season you supply,

And when you're gone, they fade and die.

Sweet Philomel, in mournful strains,
To you appeals, to you complains:
'The tow'ring lark, on rifing wing,
Warbles to you, your praise does fing;
He cuts the yielding air, and flies
To heav'n to type your future joys.

The purple violet, damask rose,
Each to delight your senses blows:
The lillies ope' as you appear;
And all the beauties of the year
Diffuse their odours at your feet,
Who give to ev'ry flow'r its fweet.

For flow'rs and women are ally'd,
Both nature's glory, and her pride;
Of ev'ry fragrant fweet poffeft,

They bloom but for the fair one's breaft;

And to the fwelling bofom born,

Each other mutually adorn.

EXPO

EXPOSTULATION.

FAIREST fair, to you my fong

In warbling numbers flows,

For you infpire my grateful tongue

And diffipate my woes:

My mind, when you, with rays divine,
Illuminate, does like you shine.

At once reveal my deftin'd fate,
And let me know the worst,
I'll arm my self against your hate,
And bear to be accurft!

If't must be fo, my doom I'll hear,

But oh! thefe cruel doubts I cannot bear!

Soon as my drooping eyes I raise
To view your charming face,
O'er-whelm'd with joy, loft in amaze,
I blefs each sparkling grace!
My raptur❜d foul fprings to my eyes,
And tells you all my fears and joys.

Poor mariners, when storms run high,

Like terrors undergo,

Sometimes they're wafted to the sky,
Then plung'd in fands below:

No more torment me; but be kind,
And cure this ague-fever of my mind.

A

H! lovely nymph, no more be coy,
Nor my requests refuse:

Why wilt thou both our joys deny,
And damp the bashful mufe?

Indulge, bleft maid, thy foft defire,
And gentle to me prove;
Then to thy praise I'll ftring my lyre,
And all my pow'rs fhall love.

But if thou, deaf to all I've pray'd,
Shalt prove coy, as at first;
Die with the odium of a maid;
Canft thou be more accurft?

To

SHE

To Lucia returning in the Snow.

HE comes! in vain the winds and fnows
Endeavour to retard our blifs:
In vain the fun his light withdraws;
Blefs'd with her rays, we need not his.

See! nature wars upon the fair,

Envies her charms the glorious prize; And fince the earth hath nought so fair She'th beg'd th' affiftance of the skies.

But yet in vain th' attack is giv❜n,

Tho' new-fall'n fnow fills every place;
The pureft white that's under heav'n,
Doth still remain in Lucia's face.

Yet let our fwains their danger know,
Poffeft of all that can infpire,

Tho' to the eye fhe's falling fnow,
She'll to the heart prove raging fire.

Winter, thy charms how I revere!
Since hail and fow can Lucia bring;
Thy ice and cold I will prefer
To all the beauties of the spring.

The

Their fweets, and flowers no more entice: They want no beauty who have her;

"Tis ever bloom in paradise.

MPHION's lyre the rocky quarry calls,

A And ftones dance forth, and raife a city's walls:

Arion on a dolphin's back was brought
Safe to the hofpitable fhore he fought.

Orpheus's harp charm'd the favage kind,
And did an entrance into Acheron find:
Infernals did his tuneful lays admire,
And he obtain'd of them his firft defire.

O my

lute! if my touch doth this musick produce, My gentle request thou can'ft not refuse,

'Tis not to calm hell, fmooth the fea in a storm,
But only to cafe my poor heart's fad alarm;

To soften the rigorous torments of grief,
Dear companion, my lute, grant me thy relief.

DAMON