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AY the gods be propitious, and so much my friends,

To supply me with bumpers, while vigour they Tis no matter to me what they fate for my

end. (lend;

With mirth unconfin’d, let my moments slide on; "Tis in vain to repine, or our destiny shun: All our life's but a puff that will quickly be gone.

Then to day let our hopes drive away dull despair, And our bumpers be crown'd with some beautiful fair: Let to morrow alone, 'tis not worthy our care.

LIFE Improv'd.


INCE the day of poor man,

That little little span,
Tho' long it can't last,

For the future, and past,
Is spent with remorse and despair :

With such a full glass,
Let that of life pass,
'Tis made up of trouble,

A ftorm, tho' a bubble,
There's no bliss like forgetting our care.


The Bashful LOVER S.
GENTLE warmth comes o'er my heart,

Short pleasing fighs too blow the fire ;
Beauty and youth can ne'er want art

To heighten eager love's defire. I sigh, and the trembles,

Yet her eyes shew some joy, Which she'd fain difsemble,

By seeming more coy: Pr’ythee be no more coy,

Pr'ythee, Cynthia, my dear, We were made to enjoy

The fweet pleasure we fear.

GRAVITY Infipid.


ow insipid were life without those delights
In which jolly brisk youths spend their days and

their nights
Unhappy grave wretches, who live by falfe measure,
And for empty vain shadows refuse real pleasure:
To such fools, while vast joys on the witty are waiting,
Life's a tedious long journey, without ever bậiting.

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INCE I have long lov'd you

in vain,
And doated on every feature,
Give me, at least, but leave to complain

Of so ungrateful a creature.

Tho' I beheld, in your wand'ring eyes,

The wanton fymptoms of ranging,
Yet I resolv'd against being wise,

And lov'd you in spight of your changing.



Or find any

hy shou'd you blame what heav'n has made,

fault in creation?
'Tis not the crime of the faithless maid,

But nature's inclination.

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The Enchanting BOWER.

HEN the bright god of day

Drove to westward each ray,
And the ev'ning was charming and clear ;,

The swallows amain

Nimbly skip'd o'er the plain,
And our shadows like giants appear :

In a jesfamine bower,

(When the bean was in flower, And Zephyrs breath'd odours around)

Lovely Cælia the fat,
With her fong, and fpinet,
And the charm'd all the grove with her found.

Roly bowers, she sung,

Whilft the harmony rung,
And the birds they all flutt'ring arrive ;

Th'industrious bees,

From the flowers and trees,..
Gently hum with their sweets to their hive.

Now the gay god of love,

As he flew o'er the grove, By Zephyrs conducted along,

As she touch'd on the strings,

He beat time with his wings, Whilft Echo repeated the fong.


Oye mortals, beware,

How ye venture too near,
Love doubly is armed to wound:

Your fate you can't shun,

For you're furely undone,
If you rafhly approach near the found.


F Phyllis denies me relief,

If she's angry, I'll seek it in wine;
Tho' she laughs at my am'rous grief,

At my mirth why shou'd she repine ?

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The sparkling champaign shall remove

All the cares my dull foul has in store: My reason I lost when I lovod,

And, by drinking, what can I do more?

Wou'd Phyllis but pity my pain,

Or my am'rous vows wou'd approve, The juice of the grape I'd disdain,

And be drunk with nothing but love.

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