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A S O N
SON G,

I,

FAIR, fweet and young, receive a prize

Referv'd for your victorious

eyes: From crouds, whom at your feet you fee,

O pity, and distinguish me!

As I from thousand beauties more

Diftinguish you, and only you adore,

II.

Your face for conqueft was defign'd,
Your every motion charms my mind;
Angels, when you your filence break,
Forget their hymns, to hear you speak;
But when at once they hear and view,
Are loth to mount, and long to ftay with you,

III.

No graces can your form improve,
But all are loft, unless you love;
While that sweet paffion you disdain,
Your veil and beauty are in vain :
In pity then prevent my fate,

For after dying all reprieve's too late.

A S

HIG
Η

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IGH ftate and honors to others impart,
But give me your heart:

That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.

So gentle a love, so fervent a fire,
My foul does infpire;

That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.

Your love let me crave;

Give me in poffeffing

So matchless a bleffing;
That empire is all I would have.

Love's my petition,

All my ambition;
If e'er you difcover
So faithful a lover,
So real a flame,

I'll die, I'll die,

So give up my game.

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Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain!
Kifs me, dear, before my dying;
Kifs me once, and ease my pain!

II.

Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain

Ever fcorning and denying

To reward your faithful fwain:
Kifs me, dear, before my dying;
Kifs me once, and ease my pain!

III.

Ever fcorning, and denying

To reward your faithful fwain:
Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain :
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

IV.

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Chloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him, that he lov'd in vain :
But repenting, and complying,
When he kiss'd, the kifs'd again:
Kifs'd him up before his dying;
Kifs'd him up, and eas'd his pain.

茶茶

Α

SONG.

I.

O tell Amynta, gentle swain,

Gi

I would not die, nor dare complain : Thy tuneful voice with numbers join, Thy words will more prevail than mine. To fouls opprefs'd, and dumb with grief, The gods ordain this kind relief; That mufic should in founds convey, What dying lovers dare not say.

II.

A figh or tear, perhaps, she'll give,
But love on pity cannot live.

Tell her that hearts for hearts were made,
And love with love is only paid.

Tell her my pains so fast increase,

That foon they will be paft redress ;
But ah! the wretch, that fpeechless lies,
Attends but death to close his eyes.

****

*&*&*&*&*&*&

A

SONG

TO A

Fair Young LADY, going out of the Town in

the Spring.

I.

A

SK not the cause, why fullen Spring
So long delays her flowers to bear;
Why warbling birds forget to fing,

And winter ftorms invert the year:
Chloris is gone, and fate provides
To make it Spring, where she refides.

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