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Sylvia.

What do I hear? ah! how could heav'n allow
Invidious death fo foon to give the blow?
How could the gods pafs this feverest doom,

To crush the blofs'ming flower just in its vernal bloom?
Cloris.

Ah! Sylvia, don't you know, the powers above
Saw fhe was fit for that bright state of love?
The bounteous deities were not fevere,
For fhe had finish'd her great errand here.
You've heard, dear Sylvia, that this mortal state
Is wifely chosen and ordain'd by fate,
That we therein, by purest virtues, may,
Prepare our fouls for those bleft feats of day.
Yes, we're confin'd to these dark shades of woe,
That finding no true blifs, nor joys below,
Urania's beauties may inveft our heart,
Triumph o'er all its powers in every part :
And when thus difciplin'd in love divine,
'Midft yonder sparkling lights we're made to shine.
In this, Lucinda all the plain furpast,
Difpatch'd the great defign of life so fast,
That the fair nymph had fcarce to live begun,
When the great bus'ness of her life was done.
The Gods, who would not now prolong her stay,
Uncag'd her foul from this wretch'd ball of clay
Then, fluttering, fhe broke loose and wing'd away.
Sylvia.

'Midft all the starry gems which gild the night,
Methinks I now behold a sparkling light,
Whofe virgin-bloom and modeft blufh declare,
That chafte Lucinda is tranfplanted there.
Cloris.

Yes, in yon conftellation bright, tho' finall,
Which mortals by the name of Virgo call,
You fee that new addition to its train ;
'Tis there our darling fellow mate doth reign.
Lucinda, ah! Lucinda, we don't grieve
That thou art dead, but that we can survive
When thou art gone, that we should stay behind,
And not be ftript with thee to naked mind.

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The

A

The FAREWELL. By the fame.

A.

H! muft we part! ah! must we bid adieu !
O then farewel, a long farewel to you,
I'll never see thee more, I'll take one leave,
This is the laft rencounter e'er we'll have.
B.

Perhaps we shan't each other fee,
While thus enclos'd in balls of clay;
But when our lab'ring fouls get free,
We'll meet in those bright feats of day.

A.

Ah, no! even there we can't each other see,
Your tow'ring foul will mine so far out-flee.
With nimble strokes you'll foar and fail the skies,
That are too bright, too dazzling for mine eyes.
B.

But granting that it should be fo,

I cou'd not there for ever stay :

We're finite still, and fuch, you know,
Cannot abide a constant day.

A.

Yes, fure fometimes we muft our faces vail,
Stoop and confess that we're too weak, too frail
To bear thofe fplendid and full beaming rays,
With conftant open and unclosed

B.

eyes.

Well then, while the celestial train
In low proftrations thus do fall,
Tho' ne'er fo high I'd turn again,
And fink and bow beneath them all.
Here we shall meet, and here I'll cry,
What think you, dear, what think you now,
Of all the pain and mifery,

The penance that we had below?

A.

Farewel, O then farewel, dear faint, adieu;

And when you're gone, mind what you've promis'd now.

A Paftoral POE M. By the fame.

Wherein, under the name of Strephon, (or the converted foul) difgufted of his old amours with Cofinelia, (or the world) and going in queft of the nobler beauty Urania, (or the fupreme good) is reprefented the triumph of the virtuous foul over its paffions, the love of the world, and all inferior things.

W

Pathetas, or the Paffions.

'HY, Strephon, why departed from the plains?
Why thus eftrang'd to all thy neighb'ring fwains?
Why in fuch midnight fhades, fuch filent groves,
While they enjoy the fair Cofmelia's loves?

Where are thofe fprightly looks, that am'rous glance,
Whereby thou charm'd the nymph when in the dance?
Where are the laurels fhe weav'd for thy head,
When 'midst thy rivals thou the triumph led?
Where are thofe spreading looks that us'd to fly,
And waving o'er thy finowy fhoulders lay?
Where are those sweet perfumes, that balmy scent,
Which from thy head in streaming odours went ?
What has untun'd the pipe that us'd to move,
And in fuch blushing gentle whispers strove,
To warble out the fair Cofmelia's love?
In fhort, fince all that's am'rous, brisk and gay,
Pleasant and charming, fince that's all away;

Tell me from whence this mighty change doth flow?
What strange reverse of thoughts has made thee fo?

Strephon.

Diffolv'd in tears, all in this fable hue,
I mourn that e'er Cofmelia's loves I knew.

Pathetas.

Ah! could fhe prove unkind, could she disdain
Strephon's embraces, then might you complain;
But still she loves, her paffion's ftill the fame,
And ev❜n your abfence does augment the flame.
Strephon.

Silence, fond youth, for now I've learn'd to know,
Her fmiles were noxious, and her joys my woe;

}

Each

Each look was fatal, and each kiss a dart,
That pierc'd my foul, and stung me to the heart.
Pathetas.

I've just now left the fields, and heard the noise
Of fair Cofmelia, and the mournful voice

Of all the wand'ring nymphs that rang'd the plains,
Pals'd and repafs'd thro' all the joyful fwains,
Still groaning forth this note, Ah! is he gone!
Is Strephon loft! Is Strephon thus undone !
Ah! can he now difdain Cofmelia's charms,
And live fo long a ftranger to her arms?

Thus wand'ring thro' the plains they vent their moans,
While all the echoing woods refound their groans.
And can you yet believe that fhe's your foe,
Whofe am'rous plaints fuch height of paffion fhow!
Strephon.

Yes, ftill fhe loves, and ftill the more fhe loves,
Still fhe more noxious and more hurtful proves :
Ah! happy I, had she been still unkind,

Had fhe with fcorn, my am'rous fuits declin'd;
Had fhe, with low'ring frowns veil'd all her face,
Difdain'd may fighs, and fhun'd my fond embrace.
For now I fee that all her gaudy charms
Were but enchanted shows, and real harms.
Oh! cruel nymph, thy loves had I ne'er known,
I had not been thus fetter'd and ty'd down;
With nimble ftrokes, I could have wing'd above,
And known, and feen that beauty whom I love.
But now, involv'd in mifts, I wand'ring stray,
And fear, at every step, to lose my way.
Urania, Oh Urania! hear my groans,
Compaffionate my griefs, regard my moans.
Long have I ftray'd in this dark maze of night,
And chas'd a phantom that deceiv'd my fight.
When first I rov'd, thou call'dit and bad'st me stay,
But I regardless still fpur'd on my way.
Thou oft renew'dft the check, and stopt
my courfe
Impatient I ftill fpurn'd, and turn'd the worse.
Long thou purfu'dft, ftill I thy fuits declin'd,
And still the more thou lov'dit, the more I was unkind.
Thus wretch'd and treach'rous I did faithlefs prove,
To all the filent whispers of thy love.

;

But

But now my heart relents, I die with pain,
To think that e'er I could thy love disdain:
Enrag'd against my felf, I wand'ring go
Thro' all the filent groves, and vent my woe;
Calling to each small shrub, and lofty tree,
Ah! will Urania hear and pity me!

Cofmelia.

What mournful notes are these that touch my ear,
Is't Strephon, or fome phantom that I hear?
Ah! ftop, dear youth, and do not scorn my cries;
Once more regard the rhetʼric of mine eyes.
The chryftal drops that from these fountains flow,
And down my cheeks in rofy channels
Proclaim my love, my height of passion show.

Strephon.

go,

I fcorn your tears, in vain you court my stay :
A nobler object calls my foul away.

Cofmelia.

Are these the just returns for all my care,
For all the am'rous sweets I did prepare ;
When thou lay clafp'd, enclosed in my arms,
And thy fond foul was raptur'd with my charms?
Remind how oft on yonder diftant plains,
When with disdainful frowns I pals'd the fwains,
With what foft melting fmiles I glanc'd on thee,
And thou return'd the look with ecstasie.
Remind these rofy walks, these flow'ry shades,
Where we so oft repos'd our am'rous heads.
Remind these gentle ftreams whereon we lay,
And bath'd and fported out the toils of day:
While all the blofs'ming train perfum'd the grove,
And in sweet balmy whifpers bade us love.
Remind how oft, on yonder filent groves,
I call'd on Strephon to enjoy my loves;
With what fierce leaps you sprung into the place,
And thy rapt foul flew out in each embrace.
Remind all this, and then, dear Strephon, tell
Why you'd torment the nymph you loy'd fo well?
Strephon.

While with fuch fondness I purfu'd thy love,

A nobler flame could not my paffions move;

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