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MIRA and COLIN.
The face of nature smild,
And daisy-painted wild;
Sweet breath'd the vernal air ;
To sooth the shepherd's care:
When Mira fair, and Colin gay,
Both fam'd for faithful love,
Together fought the grove :
That filent stole along,
Address’d the tender song.
Hark, Mira, how from yonder tree,
· For thee, more sweet than spring; • How choice a fragrance thro’ the air,
· Those spring-born blossoms shed ! • How seems that vilet proud to rear • Its purple-tinctur'd head !
• Ah! Mira, had the tuneful race
• Thy heart-bewitching tongue,
· Enamour'd while they sung?
• Ne’er held ye place so fair,
· Shall I to gems compare
thine eyes, Thy skin to virgin snows, Thy balmy breath to gales that rise • From every new-blown rose? Ah! nymph, fo far thy charms outshine
. The fairest forms we fee, . We only guess at things divine,
By what appear in thee.
'Twas thus enamour'd Colin sung.
His love-excited lays ; The grove
with tender echoes rung;
And wav'd his filken wings,
So fond the shepherd lings?
s swift as time, put round the glass,
And husband well life's little space; Perhaps the sun, which shines so bright, May set in everlasting night.
Or if the sun again should rise,
Come, fill a bumper, fill it round,
Against Constraint in Love.
W up you gain the
Lifeless charm without the heart!
The Way to Win Her. A SWAIN, long tortur'd with disdain,
That daily figh’d, but figh'd in vain, At length the god of wine addrest, The refuge of a wounded breast.
Vouchsafe, O pow's, thy healing aid, Teach me to gain the cruel maid; Thy juices take the lover's part, Flush his wan looks, and chear his heart.
Thus to the jolly god-he cry'd,
With dauntless form approach the fair ; The way to conquer is to dare. The fwain pursu'd the god's advice, The nymph was now no longer nice:
But smiling, told her fex's mind, When you grow daring, we grow
kind: Men to themselves are most severe, And make us tyrants by their fear.
The WHEEDLE K.
n vain, dear Cloe, you suggest, I
That I, inconstant, have poffeft,
Or lov'd a fairer she :
Look in your glass and fee.'
And if perchance you there should find,
You've reason for your tears :
How needless are those fears?
If in my way I should, by chance,
I like but whilft I view :
I still receive from you ?
With wanton flight the curious bee,
And where each blossom blows,
He ravishes the rose.