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L
OVE and Folly were at play,

Both too wanton to be wise,
They fell out, and in the fray

Folly put out Cupid's eyes.

Straight the criminal was try'd,

And had this punishment assign’d, Folly should to Love be ty’d,

And condemn’d to lead the blind.

A ,

N amorous swain to Juno pray'd,

And thus his fuit did move;
Give me, oh! give me the dear maid,
Or take
away my love.

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The

The Goddess thunder'd from the skies,

And granted his request;
To make him happy, made him wise,

And drove her from his breast.

S

WAIN, thy hopeless paflion smother, *

Perjur'd Celia loves another ;
In his arms I saw her lying,
Panting, kissing, trembling, dying ;
There the fair deceiver swore,
All she did to you before.

Oh!

* The turn in this song is ingeniously copied out of Ovid's epistle from Oenone to Paris.

Cum Paris Oenone poterit spirare relicta,

Ad fontem Xanthi versa recurret aqua;
Xanthe retro propera, verfæque recurrite lymphæ,

Sustinet Oenone deseruisse Paris.

Oenone left, when Paris can survive,
The waves of Xanthus shall reverse their course;
Turn waters, turn, flow upward to your source,
Oenone's left, yet Paris bears to live.

Oh! said you, when she deceives me,
When that conitant creature leaves me,
Isis' waters back shall fly,
And leave their oozy channels dry ;
Turn, ye waters, leave your shore,
Perjur'd Celia loves no more.

UPID, instruct an amorous swain

Some way to tell the nymph his pain

To common youths unknown ; To talk of fighs, and flames, and darts, Of bleeding wounds, and burning hearts,

Are methods vulgar grown.

What need'st thou tell ? (the God reply'd) That love the shepherd cannot hide,

The nymph will quickly find ; When Phoebus does his beams display, To tell men gravely that 'tis day,

Is to suppose them blind.

OVE's a dream of mighty treasure,

Which in fancy we possess ; In the folly lies the pleasure,

Wisdom always makes it less.

When we think by passion heated

We a Goddess have in chace, Like Ixion we are cheated,

And a gaudy cloud embrace.

Happy only is the lover

Whom his mistress well deceives; Seeking nothing to discover,

He contented lives at ease.

While the wretch who would be knowing

What the fair one would disguise, Labours for his own undoing,

Changing happy to be wise,

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;

I always knew (at least believ'd)

She was a very woman :
As such I lik'd, as such caress'd,
She still was conftant when possess’d,

She could do more for no man.

the man ;

But oh! her thoughts on others ran,
And that

you

think a hard thing? Perhaps she fancied

you And what care I one farthing? You think she's false, I'm sure she's kind, I take her body, you her mind,

Who has the better bargain ?

CONGREVE.

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