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AMON,

if
you

will believe me, 'Tis not fighing on the plain, Song nor fonnet can relieve ye;

Faint attempts in love are vain,

Urge but home the fair occasion,

And be master of the field; To a powerful kind invasion

"Twere a madness not to yield.

Love gives out a large commiffion,

Still indulgent to the brave; But one fin of base omission

Never woman yet forgave.

Tho' she vows she'll ne'er permit ye,

Cries you're rude and much to blame,
And with tears implores your pity;
Be not merciful, for shame.

When

When the fierce assault is over,

Chloris time enough will find This her cruel furious lover

Much more gentle, not so kind.

SEDLEY.

WHAT! put

HAT! off with one denial,

And not make a second trial:
You might see my eyes consenting,
All about me was relenting;
Women oblig'd to dwell in forms
Forgive the youth that boldly storms.

Lovers when you figh and languish,
When you tell us of your anguish,
To the nymph you'll be more pleasing
When those sorrows you are easing:
We love to try how far men dare,
And never with the foe should spare.

L

ET not Love on me beftow

Soft distress and tender woe;
I know none but substantial blisses,
Eager glances, folid kisses.

I know not what the lovers feign
Of finer pleasure mix'd with pain ;
Then pr’ythee give me, gentle boy,
None of thy grief, but all thy joy.

STEEL.

WHY

HY we love, and why we hate,

Is not granted us to know; Random chance, or wilful fate

Guides the fhaft from Cupid's bow.

If on me ZELINDA frown,

Madness ’tis all in me to grieve; Since her will is not her own,

Why should I uneafy live.

If I for ZELINDA die

Deaf to poor Mizella's cries, Ak not me the reason why;

Seek the riddle in the skies.

PHILLIPS,

DEAR COLIN prevent my warm blushes,

Since how can I speak without pain? My eyes have oft told you my wishes,

O! can't you their meaning explain :

My passion would lose by expression,

And you too might cruelly blame; Then don't you expect a confefsion,

Of what is too tender to name.

Since yours is the province of speaking,

Why should you expect it from me ? Our wishes should be in our keeping,

Till you tell us what they should be.

Then quickly why don't you discover ?
Did
your

heart feel such tortures as mine, Eyes need not tell over and over

What I in my bosom confine.

L. M. W. MONTAGUE,

The ANSWER.

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OOD Madam, when ladies are willing,

A man must needs look like a fool; For me I would not give a shilling

For one that can love without rule.

At least

you

fhould wait for our offers,
Nor snatch like old maids in despair ;
If you've lived to these years without proffers
Your fighs are now loft in the air.
P

You

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