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Doubtful LOVE confirm'd.


LAS! when charming Sylvia's gonc,

I sigh, and think myself undone ;
But when the lovely nymph is here,
I'm pleas'd, yet grieve, and hope, yet fear;
Thoughtless of all but her, I rove:
Ah! tell me, is not this to love?

Ah me! what pow'r can move me fo.
I die with grief when she must go ;
But I revive at her return,
I smile, I freeze, I pant, I burn:
Transports so sweet, fo strong, fo new,
Say, can they be to friendship due ?

Ah! no, 'tis love, 'tis now too plain,
I feel, I feel the pleasing pain;
For who e'er faw bright Sylvia's eyes,
But with’d, and long’d, and was her prize?
Gods! if the truest must be bleit,
Oh, let her be by me pofleft !

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The Ecstatick Lover.
ELL me, dear charmer, tell me, why

All other joys so quickly cloy,
Ail but the joys of loving thee,
And they alone immortal be?
They neither dull the mind nor sense,
Nor lose their pleasing influence..

For ever I, with fierce desire, Cou'd gaze on thee, and never tire; My ravish'd ears cou'd all day long Feast on the musick of thy tongue; And when that fails, yet still in you I something find that's ever new,

The Dreadful CHARMER.


H E bright bewitching Cloe's eyes,

A thousand hearts have won, Whilft she, regardless of the prize,

Securely keeps her own.

Ah! what a dreadful dame are you,

Who, if you e'er design
To make one happy, must undo

Nine hundred ninety nine ?


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'ENUS, thy throne of beauty now resign,

Behold on earth a conqu’ring fair,

Who more deferves love's crown to wear ; Not thy own star so bright in heav'n does shine,

Ask of thy fon her name, who, with his dart,
Has deeply grav'd it in my heart;
Or ask the god of tuneful sound,

Who sings it to his lyre,

And does this maid inspire,
With his own art to give a furer wound.

Hark! ye groves, her songs repeat,

Eccho lurks in hollow springs,

And, transported whilft she fmgs, Learns her voice, and grows more sweet.

Cou'd Narcissus see or hear her,

From his fountain he wou'd fly,
And, with awe approaching near her;,

For a real beauty die.

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Yet Venus once again my fong attend,
And when from heav'n you

Thall descend,
This shining empress to array,
When you present her all your train of loves,
Your chariot, and your murm’ring doves, (gay;

Tell her she wants one charm to make the rest more Then siniling to th' harmonious beauty say:

To a lovely voice and air,

Let a tender heart be join'd; Love can make you doubly fair ;

Mufick's sweeter when you're kind

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The Toper's Testament.
Hou'd I die by the force of good wine,

will that a tun be my shrine;
And for the age to come,
Engrave this story on my tomb:
Here lies a body once so brave,
Who with drinking made his grave.
Since thus to die will purchase fame,
And raise an everlasting name,
Drink, drink


drink, drink away, And there let's be nobly interrd; Let misers and flaves pop into their graves,

And rot in a dirty church-yard.


To bis Coy Mistress.

your W* ,

Your tender lips, your soft enchanting eyes, And all the Venus in your face,

I'm filld with pleasure and surprize.

But, cruel goddess, when I find,
Diana's coldness in your mind,
How can I bear that fixt disdain ?
My pleasure dies, and. I but live in pain.
Tyrant Cupid, when, relenting,

Will you touch the charmer's heart I
Sooth her breast to soft confenting,

Or remove from mine the dart.
But, fee! while to my passion voice I give,

Th’applauded beauty, doubly bright,

Seems in the am'rous tale to take delight,
And looks as the wou'd let me live ;
Yet still she chides, but with so sweet an air,
That, while she love denies, she yet forbids despair.

Fear not, doubting fair, t approve me,

love me?
Frown not if you answer no;
When again I ask, pursuing,
If you'll ftay and see my ruin

Fly, but let me with you go.


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