A

I.

LL attendants apart

I examin'd my heart,

Laft night when I lay'd me to reft;

And methinks I'm inclin'd

To a change of my mind,

For, you know, fecond thoughts are the best.

II.

To retire from the crowd,

And make ourselves good,

By avoiding of every temptation,

Is in truth to reveal

What we'd better conceal,

That our paffions want fome regulation.

III. It

III.

It will much more redound
To our praise to be found,

In a world fo abounding with evil,

Unfpotted and pure;

Though not fo demure,

As to wage open war with the devil.

Nancy, wilt thou go with me,

Nor figh to leave the flaunting town:
Can filent glens have charms for thee, ba
The lowly cot and ruffet gown? W
No longer drefs'd in filken fheen,

No longer deck'd with jewels rare, a
Say can't thou quit each courtly scene,
Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

O Nancy! when thou'rt far away,
Wilt thou not caft a wifh behind?
Say can'ft thou face the parching ray,
Nor fhrink before the wintry wind?
O can that soft and gentle mien

Extremes of hardship learn to bear,
Nor fad regret each courtly scene,
Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

O Nancy!

O Nancy! can'ft thou love so true,
Through perils keen with me to go,
Or when thy fwain mifhap fhall ruë,
To fhare with him the pang of woe?
Say fhould disease or pain befal,

Wilt thou affume the nurfe's care,
Nor wiftful thofe gay scenes recall
Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

And when at laft thy love fhall die,
Wilt thou receive his parting breath?
Wilt thou reprefs each struggling figh,
And clear with smiles the bed of death?
And wilt thou o'er his breathlefs clay

Strew flow'rs, and drop the tender tear,

2

Nor then regret thofe fcenes fo gay,

Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

+80:0:0:03

CYNTHIA, an Elegiac POEM.

By the Same.

Libeat tibi Cynthia mecum

Rofcida mufcofis antra tenere jugis.

PROPERT.

BENEATH an aged oak's embow'ring fhade,

Whose spreading arms with gray mofs fringed were,

Around whofe trunk the clasping ivy ftray'd;
A love-lorn youth oft penfive would repair.

Faft by, a Naïd taught her stream to glide,
Which through the dale a winding channel wore;

The filver willow deck'd its verdant fide,
The whisp'ring fedges wav'd along the fhore.

Here oft, when Morn peep'd o'er the dusky hill;
Here oft when Eve bedew'd the misty vale;
Careless he laid him all befide the rill,

And pour'd in ftrains like these his artless tale.