Mayhap fhe yet will

prove the joys

Of a domestic country life.

Mayhap fhe'll think on thefe lov'd bow'rs, Where, wing'd with joy, the minutes fled; And fwift, unnotic'd, pafs'd the hours Beneath the ivy-mantled fhade.

SONG 67.

ΑΝΝΑ.

SHEPHERDS, I have loft my love,

Have you feen my Anna,
Pride of ev'ry fhady grove,
Upon the banks of Banna:
I for her my home forfook,
Near yon mifty mountain,
Left my flock, my pipe, my crook,
Greenwood fhade, and fountain.

Never fhall I fee them more,

Until her returning,

All the joys of life are o'er,

From gladness chang'd to mourning : Whither is my charmer flown?

Shepherds, tell me whither?

Ah! wo for me! perhaps he's gone,

For ever and for ever.

SONG 68.

LOVE's a genlte gen'rous paffion,

Source of all fublime delights; Which, with mutual inclination, Two fond hearts in one unites.

What are titles, pomp, and riches,
When compar'd with true content ?
That falfe joy which now bewitches,
When obtain'd, we may repent.

Lawless paffion brings vexation:
But a chafte and virtuous love,

Is a glorious emulation

Of the blissful ftate above.

SONG 69.

The SECRET KISS.

AT the filent ev'ning hour,

Two fond lovers in a bow'r, Sought their mutual blifs;

Tho' her heart was juft relenting,

Tho' her eyes feem'd just confenting, Yet, yet fhe fear'd to kiss.

Since this fecret fhade he cry'd,
Still thofe rofy blushes hide,
Why, why will you refift?

When no tell-tale fpy is near us,
Eye to fee, or ear to hear us,
Who, who would not be kiss'd?

Celia hearing what he said,
Blushing, lifted up her head,
Her breaft foft wishes fiill :

Since, the cry'd, no spy is near us,

Eye to fee, or ear to hear us,
Kifs, kifs-or what you will.

SONG 70.

The BORROW'D KISS.

SEE I languifh! fee I faint!

1 muft borrow, beg, or steal When fee a foul in want, you And no kind compaffion feel? Give, or lend, or let me take,

One fweet kifs; I afk no more: One fweet kiss, for pity's fake! : I'll repay it with a score.

Chloe heard, and with a fmile,

Kind, compaffionate, and fweet;
Colin, 'tis a fin to steal,

And for me to give's not meet:
But I'll lend a kifs or twain,
To poor Colin in diftrefs;

Not but I'll be paid again,
Colin, I mean nothing lefs.

SONG 71.

The RAPTURE.

WHILST on thy dear bofom lying,

Celia, who can speak thy blifs; When the rapture I'm enjoying, When thy balmy lips I kifs! Ev'ry look with love infpires me,

Ev'ry touch my bofom warms;

Ev'ry melting murmur fires me,
Ev'ry joy is in thy arms.

Thofe dear eyes how foft they languish, Feel my heart with tranfport beat;

Pleasure turns almost to anguish,

When the transport is fo fweet :

Think not fo divinely on me,

Celia, I die with blifs;

Yet, yet turn thefe eyes upon me!
Who'd not die a death like this?

ON a

SONG 72.

The STOLEN KISS.

Na moffy bank reclin'd,

Beauteous Chloe lay repofing:

O'er her breaft each am'rous wind

Wanton play'd its fweets difclofing: Tempted with the fmiling charms, Colin, happy fwain drew nigh her, Softly fole into her arms,

Laid his fcrip and sheep hook by her.

O'er her downy panting breaft,

His delighted fingers roving;

To her lips his lips he preft,
In the extacy of loving:
Chloe waken'd with his kifs,

Pleas'd, yet frowned to conceal it ;
Cry'd, True lovers fhare the blifs,

Why then, Colin, wou'd you fteal it!