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Are so lovely, sweet, and fair,

Or do more ennoble love ; Are fo choicely match'd a pair,

Or with more consent do move.

On a

GIR D L E.

By the same.

TH

HAT which her slender waist confin'd,

Shall now my joyful temples bind :
No monarch but would give his crown,
His arms might do what this has done.

It was my heav'n's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move !

A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair: Give me but what this ribbon bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.

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Y

E Persian maids, attend your poet's lays,

And hear how shepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are bleft, whom fortune's hand sustains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains :
Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell;
Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.

Thus Selim sung, by facred truth inspir'd;
Nor praise, but such as truth bestow'd, defir'd:
Wife in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd maid ;
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find,
What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride,
When wanton gales along the valleys play,
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away;

By

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By Tigris' wandering waves he fat, and fung
This useful lesion for the fair and

young.
Ye Persian dames, he faid, to you belong,
Well may they please, the morals of my song:
No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found,

Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around !
The morn that lights you, to your loves supplies
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes':
For you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow,
And yours-the lore that kings delight to know.
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are,
The best kind blessings heaven can grant the fair!
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray,
Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display;
Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light:
Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast,
By sense unaided, or to virtue loft.
Self-flattering fex! your hearts believe in vain
That love shall blind, when once he fires the fivain ;
Or hope a lover by your faults to win,
As spots an ermin beautify the fin :
Who seeks secure to rule, be first her care
Each softer virtue that adorns the fair;
Each cender paffion man delights to find,
The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Bleft were the days, when Wisdom held her reign, And lhepherds fought her on the filent plain;

a

ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.

By Mr. COLLINS.

E CLOGUE

SELIM; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

SCENE, A VALLEY NEAR BAGDAT.

TIME, THE MORNING.

YE

E Persian maids, attend your poet's lays,

And hear how shepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are bleft, whom fortune's hand sustains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains :
Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ;
"Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.

Thus Selim fung, by facred truth inspir'd;
Nor praise, but such as truth bestow'd, defir'd:
Wife in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd maid;
Or taught the swains that surelt bliss to find,
What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride,
When wanton gales along the valleys play,
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away ;

By

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For you

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By Tigris' wandering waves he fat, and fung
This useful leffon for the fair and young.

Ye Persian dames, he faid, to you belong, Well may they please, the morals of my song: No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around! The morn that lights you, to your loves supplies Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes:

those flowers her fragrant hands bestow, And yours the love that kings delight to know. Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are, The best kind blessings heaven can grant the fair! Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray, Boast but the worth Basfora's pearls display; Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright, But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light: Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast, By sense unaided, or to virtue loft. Self-flattering sex! your hearts believe in vain That love shall blind, when once he fires the fivain ; Or hope a lover by your faults to win, As spots on ermin beautify the kin: Who seeks fecure to rule, be first her care Each softer virtue that adorns the fair; Each tender paffion man delights to find, The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Bleit were the days, when Wisdom held her reign, And shepherds fought her on the filent plain;

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