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O

SONG XCIX.

SURPRISING, lovely fair!

Who with Chloe can compare ?
Sure she's form'd for beauty's queen,
Her wit, her shape, her grace, her mien,
By far excels all nymphs I've seen;
No mortal eye

Can view her nigh,

Too exquifite for human fight to fee:
Tho' she ne'er may be kind,

Nor for me e'er defign'd,

Yet I love, I love, I love,

The charming she.

WHEN

SONG C.

THEN bright Aurelia tript the plain,
How chearful then were feen,

The looks of every jolly swain,

That ftrove Aurelia's heart to gain,
With gambols on the green?

Their sports were innocent and gay,
Mix'd with a manly air;

They'd fing and dance, and pipe and play,
Each strove to please, some different way,
This dear enchanting fair.

The ambitious ftrife fhe did admire,
And equally approve,

Till Phaon's tuneful voice and lyre,
Which foftest music did inspire

Her foul to generous love.

Their wonted sports the reft declin'd,
Their arts prov'd all in vain ;
Aurelia's conftant now they find,
The more they languish and repin'd,
The more she loves the fwain.

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G

SONG CIII.

O, go, go, go, falfest of thy fex, be gone,

Leave, leave, ah leave me, leave me to myself alone!

Why would you strive by fond pretence,

Thus to destroy my innocence ?

Go, go, &c.leave, leave, &c.

Young Celia, you too late betray'd,
Then thus you did the nymph upbraid,
"Love, like a dream usher'd by night,
Flies the approach of morning light."
Go, go, &c.-leave, leave, &c.

She that believes man when he swears,
Or least regards his oaths and prayers,
May she, fond she, be most accurst;
Nay more, be fubject to his lust.
Go, go, &c.leave, leave, &c.

SONG CIV.

BELINDA, with affected mien,

Tries all the power of art;

Yet finds her efforts all in vain,
To gain a single heart:
Whilft Chloe, in a different way,
Is but herself to please,

And makes new conquefts every day,
Without one borrow'd grace.

Belinda's haughty air destroys
What native charms inspire ;
While Chloe's artless shining eyes
Set all the world on fire:

Belinda may our pity move;
But Chloe gives us pain,
And while fhe fmiles us into love,
Her fifter frowns in vain.

SONG CV.

ON

N a bank of flowers,
In a fummer-day,

Inviting and undress'd,

In her bloom of youth,

Fair Celia lay,

With love and fleep opprefs'd;

When a youthful fwain,

With admiring eyes,

Wish'd that he durft

The sweet maid surprise ;
With a fa, la, la, la, &c.
But fear'd approaching fpies.

As he gaz'd,

A gentle zephyr arose,
That fann'd her robes aside :
And the fleeping nymph
Did the charms disclose,

Which waking fhe would hide :
Then his breath grew short,
And his pulfe beat high,
He long'd to touch
What he chanc'd to spy;

With a fa, la, la, la, &c.
But durft not still draw nigh.

All amaz'd he stood,
With her beauties fir'd,
And bless'd the courteous wind;
Then in whispers figh'd,
And the gods defir'd,
That Celia might be kind :
When with hopes grown bold,

He advanc'd amain ;
But she laugh'd loud
In a dream, and again,

With a fa, la, la, la, &c.
Repell'd the timorous swain.

Yet the amorous youth,
To relieve his foft pain,
The flumb'ring maid carefs'd;
And with trembling hand
(O fimple poor fwain!)
Her glowing bosom press'd :
When the virgin awak'd,
And affrighted flew,
Yet look'd as wishing
He wou'd pursue :

With a fa, la, la, la, &c.
But Damon mifs'd his cue.

Now, now repenting,
That he had let her fly,

Himself he thus accus'd,

What a dull and a stupid
Blockhead was I,

That fuch a chance abus'd?

To my shame 'twill now
On the plains be faid,
Damon a virgin

Asleep betray'd,

With a fa, la, la, la, &c.

And let her go a maid.

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