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BEN

CANTATA.

Set by Monfieur GALLIARD.

RECIT.

ENEATH a verdant laurel's ample shade,
His lyre to mournful numbers ftrung,
Horace, immortal bard, fupinely laid,
To Venus thus addrefs'd the song:
Ten thousand little Loves around,
Listening, dwelt on every found.

ARIET.

Potent Venus, bid thy fon

Sound no more his dire alarms.
Youth on filent wings is flown:
Graver years come rolling on.
Spare my age, unfit for arms:
Safe and humble let me reft,
From all amorous care releas'd.

Potent Venus, bid thy fon

Sound no more his dire alarms.

RECIT.

Yet, Venus, why do I each morn prepare:

The fragrant wreath for Cloe's hair?

Why do I all day lament and figh,
Unless the beauteous maid be nigh?

And why all night pursue her in my dreams,
Through flowery meads and crystal streams?

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RECIT.

Thus fung the Bard; and thus the Goddess spoke
Submiffive bow to Love's imperious yoke:
Every state, and every age,

Shall own my rule, and fear my rage:
Compell'd by me, thy Mufe fhall prove,.

That all the world was born to love.

ARIET.

Bid thy deftin'd lyre discover

Soft defire and gentle pain:

Often praife, and always love her :

Through her ear, her heart obtain.

Verse fhall please, and fighs shall move her..
Cupid does with Phoebus reign.

Lines written in an OVID:

A Tranflation from the FRENCH.

OVID is the fureft guide,

You can name, to fhew the way

To any woman, maid or bride,

Who refolves to go astray.

A TRUE

N

'O, no; for my virginity,

MAI D.

When I lose that, fays Rofe, I'll die: Behind the elms, last night, cry'd Dick,

Rose, were you not extremely fick ?

ANOTHER.

ANOTHER.

EN months after Florimel happen'd to wed,

TEN

And was brought in a laudable manner to bed: She warbled her groans with so charming a voice, That one half of the parish was ftunn'd with the noise. But, when Florimel deign'd to lie privately in, Ten months before the and her spouse were a-kin; She chofe with fuch prudence her pangs to conceal,

That her nurfe, nay her midwife, fcarce heard her once

fqueal.

Learn, husbands, from hence, for the peace of your

lives,

That maids make not half fuch a tumult as wives.

A REASONABLE AFFLICTION.

N his death-bed poor Lubin lies;

ON

His fpoufe is in defpair:

With frequent fobs, and mutual cries,
They both exprefs their care.

A different caufe, fays parfon Sly,

The fame effect may give :

Poor Lubin fears, that he fhall die;

His wife, that he may live.

Another

Another REASONABLE AFFLICTION.

ROM her own native France as old Alison past,.

FROM

She reproach'd English Nell with neglect or with
malice,

That the flattern had left, in the hurry and hafte,
Her lady's complexion and eye-brows at Calais.

ANOTHER.

HER eye-brow-box one morning loft,

(The beft of folks are oftencft croft).

Sad Helen thus to Jenny faid

(Her careless but afflicted maid),

Put me to bed then, wretched Jane;
Alas! when fhall I rife again?

I can behold no mortal now:
For what 's an eye without a brow?

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

IN a dark corner of the house

Poor Helen fits, and fobs, and cries ;:
She will not fee her loving fpouse,
Nor her more dear picquet allies:
Unless the find her eye-brows,
She 'll e'en weep out her eyes.

ON

ON THE SAME.

HELEN was juft flipt into bed :

Her eye-brows on the toilet lay:
Away the kitten with them fled,
As fees belonging to her prey.

For this misfortune carelefs Jane, Affure yourself, was loudly rated : And madam, getting up again,

With her own hand the mouse-trap baited..

On little things, as fages write,: Depends our human joy or forrow: If we don't catch a moufe to-night, Alas! no eye-brows for to-morrow.

PHYLLIS'S

A G E.

HOW old may Phyllis be, you afk,

Whofe beauty thus all hearts engages?

To answer is no easy task :

For fhe has really two ages.

Stiff in brocade, and pinch'd in stays,
Her patches, paint, and jewels on;
All day let Envy view her face,

And Phyllis is but twenty-one.

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