BR

WINE before LovE.

RING, bring my mistress to my arms,
Let me the flask embrace;

Here are the true, the pow'rful charms,
And none in Calia's face.

How bright, how fparkling are her eyes!
How fragrant is her breath!

Kifs me, my love, my life, the cries,
Prefs me, my dear, to death.

The flowing joys have reach'd my heart,

They glide thro' every vein;

What heat, what ftrength, does wine impart! What pleasure without pain!

While, love, how frail are all thy joys!.

How foon do they expire!

He lofes all, who but enjoys;

What feeds, puts out the fire.

W

Ever Fair, Ever Young.

HEN Sylvia's charms were in their bloom,

I was an early flave,

And faw enough to know my doom,

That I must die ere I prefume

To tell what I wou'd have.

Her eyes were flames that scorch'd my heart,

Her voice my fenfes won;

Her wit, her humour, bore a part,
Without defign, disguise, or art,
To fhew I was undone.

Abfence I thought might eafe my care,
Or make her charms lefs ftrong;
Or time her beauty might impair:
But fhe who always will be fair,

For ever must be young.

The

The LADY's Three Things.

Ho'ladies look gay, when of beauty they boast,

THO

And mifers are envy'd, when wealth is increas'd; The vapours oft kill all the joys of a toast,

And the mifer's a wretch, when he pays for the feast.

The pride of the great, of the rich, of the fair,
May pity befpeak, but envy can't move;
My thoughts are no farther aspiring,
No more my fond heart is defiring,
Than freedom, content, and the man that I love.

Excellency of VIRTUE.

s there on earth a pleasure

Dearer than virtue's fame?

In vain's the real treasure,

When we have loft the name.

Then let each maid maintain it,

"Twill ask the nicest care; Once loft, fhe'll ne'er regain it,

All, all is then despair.

The

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COM

The Enthufiaftick TOPER.

OME, here's to the nymph that I love;
Away, ye vain forrows, away,

Far, far from my bosom be gone,
All there fhall be pleafant and gay.

Far hence be the fad and the pensive;
Come, fill up your glaffes around;
We'll drink till our faces be ruddy,

And all our vain forrows are drown'd.

'Tis done; and my fancy's exalting,
With every gay blooming defire;
My blood with ardour is glowing,
Soft pleasures my bofom inspire.

My foul now to love is diffolving;
Oh fate! had I here my fair charmer,
I'd clafp her, I'd clafp her fo eager,
Of all her difdain I'd difarm her.

But hold; what has Love to do here,
With his troops of vain cares in array?
Avaunt, idle pensive intruder-

He triumphs, he will not away.

I'll drown him, come, give me a bumper;
Young Cupid, here's to thy confufion
Now, now he's departing, he's vanquish'd;
Adieu to his anxious delufion.

Come, jolly god Bacchus, here's to thee;
Huzza, boys, huzza, boys, huzza!
Sing Io, fing Io to Bacchus,

Hence, all ye dull thinkers, withdraw.

Come, what fhou'd we do but be jovial?
Come, tune up your voices and sing;
What foul is fo dull to be heavy,

When wine fets our fancies on wing?

Come, Pegafus lies in this bottle,

He'll mount us, he'll mount us on high;
Each of us a gallant young Perfeus,
Sublime we'll afcend to the sky.

Come, mount, or adieu; I arise,

In feas of wide æther I'm drown'd; The clouds far beneath me are failing, I fee the spheres whirling around.

What darkness, what rattling is this!
Thro' Chaos' dark regions I'm hurl'd;
And now
oh! my head it is knock'd
Upon fome confounded new world.

Now,