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A figh, or tear, perhaps, she'll give,
ES, faireft proof of beauty's power,
Nature points this my fatal hour;
And I have liv'd; and we must part.
While now I take my
last adieu Heave thou no figh, nor shed a tear, Left yet my half-clos'd
view On earth an object worth its care..
From jealousy's tormenting ftrife
For ever be thy bosom freed; That nothing may disturb thy life
Content I hasten to the dead.
Yet when some better fated youth
Shall with his amorous parly move thee, Reflect one moment on his truth
Who dying thus perfifts to love thee.
N vain you tell your parting lover
I over :
Alas! what winds can happy prove
Bc gentle, and in pity choose
HE heavy hours are almost past
That part my love and me; My longing eyes may hope at last
Their only wish to see,
But how, my Delia, will
you meet The man you've lost so long ? Will love in all your pulses beat,
And tremble on your tongue ?
Will you in every look declare
Your heart is still the fame;
And heal each idle anxious care
Our fears in absence frame ?
Thus Delia, thus I paint the scene
When shortly we shall meet, And
try what yet remains between Of loit'ring time to cheat.
But if the dream that sooths my mind
Shall false and groundless prove, If I am doom'd at length to find
You have forgot to love;
All I of Venus ask is this,
No more to let us join ;
To die and think you mine,
F wine and music have the
power To ease the sickness of the soul, Let Phoebus every string explore,
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl.
Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my Chloe's absence light, And seek for pleasure, to destroy
The forrows of this live-long night.
But she to-morrow will return;
Venus be thou to-morrow great, Thy myrtles strew, thy odours burn,
And meet thy fav’rite nymph in ftate.
Let us to-morrow's blessings own ;
And all the day be thine alone.
HEN Delia on the plain appears,
Aw'd by a thousand tender fears, I would approach, but dare not move ; Tell me my heart if this be love?