WHEN here LUCINDA firft we came Where Arno rolls his filver stream, How blithe the nymphs, the fwains how gay, Content infpir'd each rural lay. The birds in livelier concert fung, The grapes But now fince good PALEMON died, DORSET. WHEN lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can footh her melancholy? The only art her guilt to cover, GOLDSMITH, ELL my STREPHON that I die; TEL Let echoes to each other tell, Till the mournful accents fly To STREPHON's ear, and all is well. But But gently breathe the fatal truth, Now fountains, echoes, all be dumb; And grieve I bought my rest so dear. F ROM place to place, forlorn, I go, With downcaft eyes, a filent shade; Forbidden to declare my woe; My inward pangs, my fecret grief, STEEL. THERE is one dark and fullen hour, Which fate decrees our lives fhould know, Elfe we thould flight th' Almighty power, 'Tis paft, dear CYNTHIA, now let frowns begone, In each foft hour of filent night Slumber in joys, but wake in tears: Ah! faithlefs charming faint, what will you do? Let me not think I am by you Lov'd lefs for being true. AIR, and foft, and gay, and young, FAIR, and foft, and All charm! the play'd, fhe danç'd, fhe fung, There There was no way to 'fcape the dart, No care could guard the lover's heart. Ah! why, cry'd.I, and dropt a tear, (Adoring, yet defpairing e'er To have her to myself alone) Was fo much sweetness made for one? But growing bolder, in her ear But long I had not been in view, |