A SON G.

VIII.

HIGH ftate and honours to others impart,

But give me your heart :

That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.

So gentle a love, fo fervent a fire,
My foul does inspire ;
That treasure, that treasure alone,
I beg for my own.
Your love let me crave;
Give me in poffeffing

So matchlefs a bleffing;

That empire is all I would have.

Love's my petition,

All my ambition;
If e'er you discover
So faithful a lover,
So real a flame,
I'll die, I'll die.

So give up my game.

Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain!
Ever fcorning and denying

To reward your faithful swain :
Kifs me, dear, before my dying;
Kifs me once, and ease my pain!
III.

Ever fcorning, and denying
To reward your faithful swain.
Cloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain :
Kifs me, dear, before my dying;
Kifs me once, and ease my pain!
IV.

Cloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him, that he lov'd in vain :
But, repenting, and complying,
When he kiss'd, she kiss'd again :
Kifs'd him up before his dying;
Kifs'd him up, and eas'd his pain.

X.

A SON G.

I.

Go tell Amynta, gentle swain,

I would not die, nor dare complain :
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy words will more prevail than mine.
To fouls opprefs'd, and dumb with grief,
The gods ordain this kind relief;
That mufic thould in founds convey,

What dying lovers dare not fay.

II.

A figh or tear, perhaps, she'll give,

But love on pity cannot live.

Tell her that hearts for hearts were made,

And love with love is only paid.

Tell her my pains so fast increase,

That foon they will be past redress;
But ah! the wretch, that speechlefs lies,
Attends but death to clofe his eyes.

XI.

A SONG to a fair young LADY,
Going out of the Town in the Spring.

I.

ASK not the caufe, why fullen Spring

So long delays her flowers to bear;

Why warbling birds forget to fing,
And winter ftorms invert the year :

3

Chloris

Chloris is gone, and fate provides

To make it Spring, where fhe refides.

II.

Chloris is gone, the cruel fair;
She caft not back a pitying eye;
But left her lover in despair,

To figh, to languish, and to die:
Ah, how can those fair eyes endure
To give the wounds they will not cure!

III.

Great god of love, why haft thou made
A face that can all hearts command,
That all religions can invade,

And change the laws of every land?
Where thou hadft plac'd fuch power before,
Thou shouldft have made her mercy more.

IV.

When Chloris to the temple comes,
Adoring crowds before her fall;
She can restore the dead from tombs,
And every life but mine recal.

I only am by Love defign'd
To be the victim for mankind.

P 3

II.

What paffion cannot Mufic raise and quell!
When Jubal ftruck the chorded fhell,

His liftening brethren ftood around,
And, wondring, on their faces fell

To worship that celeftial found.

Lefs than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that fhell,

That spoke fo fweetly and fo well.

What paffion cannot Mufic raise and quell?

III.

The trumpet's loud clangor

Excites us to arms,

With fhrill notes of anger

And mortal alarms.

The double double double beat

Of the thundering drum

Cries, hark! the foes come;

Charge, Charge, 'tis too late to retreat.

IV.

The foft complaining flute

In dying notes discovers

The woes of hopeless lovers,

Whofe dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.

V.

Sharp violins proclaim

Their jealous pangs, and defperation,

Fury, frantic indignation,

Depth of pains, and height of passion,
For the fair, difdainful, dame.