II.

Now every paffion finks to reft,
The throbbing heart lies ftill,

And varying schemes of life no more
Distract the labouring will.
III.

In filence hufh'd, to reason's voice
Attends each mental power;
Come dear Amanda, and enjoy
Reflection's favourite hour.

IV.

Come, while this peaceful scene invites,
Let's fearch this ample round;
Where shall the lovely fleeting form
Of Happiness be found?

How oft the laughing brow of joy

A fick'ning heart conceals,

And through the cloister's deep recess
Invading forrow steals.

VII. In

VII.

In vain through beauty, fortune, wit,

The fugitive we trace!

It dwells not in the faithless fmile

That brightens Clodio's face.
VIII.

Howe'er our varying notions rove,
All yet agree, in one,

To place its being in fome state,
At diftance from our own.

To temp'rate bounds, to few defires,

Is happiness confin'd,

And deaf to folly's noife attends

The mufic of the mind.

Lady

Lady MARY W***, to Sir W*** y***

Ꭰ

I.

EAR Colin, prevent my warm blushes,

Since how can I speak without pain ?

My eyes have oft told you their wishes,
Ah! can't you their meaning explain ?
My paffion would lose by expreffion,
And you too might cruelly blame :
Then don't you expect a confeffion

Of what is too tender to name.

II.

Since yours is the province of speaking,
Why should you expect it of me?
Our wishes should be in our keeping,
'Till

you tell us what they should be.
Then quickly why don't you discover?
Did your breast feel tortures like mine,'
Eyes need not tell over and over

What I in my bofom confine.

XXXXXXXXX

Sir W ***** Y*****'s Answer.

I.

OOD madam, when ladies are willing,

Go

A man must needs look like a fool;
For me I would not give a fhilling

For one that is kind out of rule.
At least you might stay for my offer,
Not fnatch like old maids in despair,
If you've liv'd to these years without proffer,
Your fighs are now loft in the air.
II.

You might leave me to guefs by your blushing,

And not speak the matter fo plain; 'Tis ours to pursue and be pushing, 'Tis yours to affect a difdain. That you're in a pitiful taking,

By all your sweet ogles I fee;

But the fruit that will fall without shaking

Indeed is too mellow for me.

XXX

Mifs SOPER's Answer to a Lady, who invited her to retire into a monaftic Life at St. CROSS, near WINCHESTER,

I.

N vain, mistaken maid, you'd fly

To defart and to fhadé

But fince you call, for once I'll try
How well your vows are made.

11.

To noife and cares let's bid adieu,
And folitude commend.

But how the world will envy you,

And pity me your friend!
III.

You, like rich metal hid in earth,
Each swain will dig to find;

But I expect no fecond birth,

For drofs is left behind.

VOL. VI.

S

RE