M

The TOPER'S Petition.

AY the gods be propitious, and fo much my friends, To fupply me with bumpers, while vigour they 'Tis no matter to me what they fate for my end. (lend;

With mirth unconfin'd, let my moments slide on; "Tis in vain to repine, or our destiny shun: All our life's but a puff that will quickly be gone.

Then to day let our hopes drive away dull despair, And our bumpers be crown'd with fome beautiful fair: Let to morrow alone, 'tis not worthy our care.

Tho' long it can't last,

For the future, and past,

Is spent with remorfe and defpair:

With fuch a full glass,

Let that of life pass,
"Tis made up of trouble,

A ftorm, the' a bubble,

There's no blifs like forgetting our care.

The

A

The Bafhful LoVERS.

GENTLE warmth comes o'er my heart,
Short pleasing fighs too blow the fire;
Beauty and youth can ne'er want art
To heighten eager love's defire.

I figh, and the trembles,

Yet her eyes fhew some joy,
Which fhe'd fain diffemble,
By feeming more coy:
Pr'ythee be no more coy,
Pr'ythee, Cynthia, my dear,
We were made to enjoy
The sweet pleasure we fear.

H

GRAVITY Infipid.

ow infipid were life without those delights

In which jolly brisk youths fpend their days and their nights ?

Unhappy grave wretches, who live by falfe meafure,

And for empty vain fhadows refufe real pleasure:
To fuch fools, while vaft joys on the witty are waiting,
Life's a tedious long journey, without ever baiting.

SINCE

The NOVELIST.

INCE I have long lov'd you in vain,
And doated on every feature,

Give me, at leaft, but leave to complain
Of so ungrateful a creature.

Tho' I beheld, in your wand'ring eyes,
The wanton fymptoms of ranging,

Yet I refolv'd against being wife,

And lov'd you in fpight of your changing.

The ANSWER.

HY fhou'd you blame what heav'n has made,
Or find any fault in creation?

W"

"Tis not the crime of the faithless maid,

But nature's inclination.

'Tis not because I love you lefs,

Or think you not a true one; But, if the truth I must confefs, I always lov'd a new one.

VOL. IV.

The

W

The Enchanting Bow ER.

HEN the bright god of day

Drove to weftward each ray,

And the ev'ning was charming and clear;,
The fwallows amain

Nimbly skip'd o'er the plain,

And our fhadows like giants appear:

In a jeflamine bower,

(When the bean was in flower,

And Zephyrs breath'd odours around)
Lovely Calia fhe fat,

With her fong, and fpinet,

And the charm'd all the grove with her found.

Rofy bowers, the fung,

Whilft the harmony rung,

And the birds they all flutt'ring arrive;

Th' induftrious bees,

From the flowers and trees,

Gently hum with their sweets to their hive.

Now the gay god of love,

As he flew o'er the grove,
By Zephyrs conducted along,
As the touch'd on the strings,
He beat time with his wings,
Whilft Echo repeated the fong.

O ye

O ́ye mortals, beware,

How

ye venture too near,

Love doubly is armed to wound :

Your fate you can't shun,

For you're furely undone,
If you rafhly approach near the found.

I

The ALTERNATIVE.

F Phyllis denies me relief,

If fhe's angry, I'll feek it in wine;
Tho' fhe laughs at my am'rous grief,
At my mirth why fhou'd fhe repine?

The sparkling champaign fhall remove
All the cares my dull foul has in store:
My reason I loft when I lov'd,

And, by drinking, what can I do more?

Wou'd Phyllis but pity my pain,

Or my

am'rous vows wou'd approve,

The juice of the grape I'd disdain,

And be drunk with nothing but love.