And why should forrow fit on Lesbia's face?
Are there fuch comforts in a fot's embrace ?
No friend, no lover, is to Lefbia dead;
For Lesbia long had known a separate bed.
Gufh forth, ye tears; wafte, wafte, ye fighs, my breast;
My days, my nights, were by Fidelio bleft!
You cannot fure forget how oft' you faid,
His teazing fondness jealousy betray'd!
When at the play the neighbouring box he took,
You thought you read suspicion in his look.
When cards and counters flew around the board,
Have you not wifh'd the abfence of your Lord ?
His company was then a poor pretence,
To check the freedoms of a wife's expence ?
But why fhould I Myrtillo's paffion blame,
Since Love's a fierce, involuntary flame?
Could he the fallies of his heart withstand,
Why should he not to Chloe give his hand?
For Chloe's handsome; yet he flights her flame;
Laft night fhe fainted at Sabina's name.
Why, Daphne, doft thou blame Sabina's charms?
Sabina keeps no lover from thy arms.
At crimp Myrtillo play'd; in kind regards
Doris threw love, unmindful of the cards;
Doris was touch'd with fpleen; her fan he rent,
Flew from the table, and to tears gave vent.
Why, Doris, doft thou curse Sabina's eyes?
To her Myrtilla is a vulgar prize.
Yet fay, I lov'd; how loud would cenfure rail
So foon to quit the duties of the veil !
No, fooner Plays and Operas I'd forswear,
And change thefe China jars for Tunbridge ware;
Or truft my mother as a confidant,
Or fix a friendship with my maiden-aunt ;
Than till-to-morrow throw my weeds away.
Yet let me fee him, if he comes to-day!
BETWEEN TWO OF THE PEOPLE CALLED QUAKERI.
ENEATH the fhadow of a beaver hat,
Meek Caleb at a filent-meeting fat
His eye-bal's oft' forgot the holy trance,
While Tabitha demure return'd the glance.
The meeting ended, Caleb filence broke,
And Tabitha her inward yearnings fpoke.
Beloved, fee how all things follow love; Lamb fondleth lamb, and dove difports with dore; Yet fondled lambs their innocence fecure, And none can call the turtle's bill impure. O faireft of our fifters, let me be
The billing dove and fondling lamb to thee.
But, Caleb, know that birds of gentle mind
Elect a mate among the fober kind;
Not the mockaws, all deck'd in fcarlet pride,
Entice their mild and modeft hearts afide :
But thou, vain man! beguil'd by Popith fhows,
Doateft on ribbands, flounces, furbelows.
If thy false heart be fond of tawdry dyes,
Go, wed the painted arch in summer-skies;
Such love will like the rainbow's hue decay,
Strong at the firft, but paffeth foon away.
Name not the frailties of my youthful days,
When vice mif-led me through the harlot's ways;
When I with wanton look the fex beheld,
And Nature with each wanton look rebeli'd;
Then party-colour'd pride my heart might move
With lace, the net to catch unhallow'd love.
All fuch-like love is fading as the flower,
Springs in a day, and withereth in an hour:
But now I feel the fpoufal love within,
And fpoufal love no fifter holds a fin.
I know thou longeft for the flaunting maid,
Thy falfehood own, and fay I am betray'd ;
The tongue of man is blifter'd o'er with lies,
But truth is ever read in woman's eyes.
O that my lip obey'd a tongue like thine!
Or that thine eye bewray'd a love like mine!
How bitter are thy words! forbear to teaze,
I too might blame-but love delights to please.
Why should I tell thee, that, when laft the fun
Painted the downy peach of Newington,
Jofiah led thee through the garden's walk,
And mingled melting kiffes with his talk ?
Ah, Jealoufy! turn, turn thine eyes afide:
How can I fee that watch adorn thy fide?
For verily no gift the fifters take
For luft of gain, but for the giver's fake.
I own, Jofiah gave the golden toy,
Which did the righteous hand of Quare employ ;
When Caleb hath affign'd fome happy day,
I look on this, and chide the hours delay
And, when Jofiah would his love pursue,
On this I look, and fhun his wanton view.
Man but in vain with trinkets tries to move;
The only prefent love demands is love.
Ah, Tabitha, to hear these words of thine,
My pulfe beats high, as if inflam'd with wine!
When to the brethren firft with fervent zeal
The fpirit mov'd the yearnings to reveal,
How did I joy thy trembling lip to fee
Red as the cherry from the Kentish tree!
When extafy had warm'd thy look fo meek,
Gardens of rofes blushed on thy cheek!
With what sweet transport didst thou roll thine eyes!
How did thy words provoke the brethren's fighs!
Words that with holy fighs might others move,
But, Tabitha, my fighs were fighs of love.
Is Tabitha beyond her wishes blest ?
Does no proud worldly dame divide thy breaft?
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