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UPON A FRIEND,
who HAD A PAIN IN HIS LEFT SIDE.
On chance, or on disease,
II. Your friends, at last, the truth have found, Howe'er you tell your story,
'Twas Celia's eyes that gave the wound,
SONGS, SET TO MUSIC BY. THE MOST EMINENT MASTERS. I.
SET BY MIR. ABEL.
oBADING ends in melancholy; i Wine breeds vices and diseases; Wealth is but care, and love but folly > Only friendship truly pleases. My wealth, my books, my flask, my Molly; Farewell all, if friendship ceases.
oHITHER would my passion run ?
Ye tyrants of the human breast,
And order death to give me rest;
But I plainly see the reason,
Her to gain 'twas out of season,
SET BY MIR. SMITH.
Torment not thus your pretty heart: hink, Flavia, we may meet again. As well as, that we now must part.
You sigh and weep: the gods neglect
Our joy and grief with like respect
We pray, in hopes they will be kind,
They hear; and the return we find
Then clear your brow, and look more gay,
Then, Flavia, come, and let us grieve,
This our last parting look believe,
Yet, should t r sun shine out at last :
Throw but one reconciling cast,
How great then would our pleasure be,
And we, who had no hopes to see
But say, should Heaven bring no relief,
Why then what's due to sueh a grief,
ET perjur'd fair Amynta know, What for her sake I undergo ; Tell her, for her how I sustain & A lingering fever's wasting pain ; Tell her, the torments I endure, Which only, only she can cure.
But, oh! she scorns to hear, or see, The wretch that lies so low as me; Her sudden greatness turns her brain, And Strephon hopes, alas! in vain: 10 For ne'er 'twas found (though often tried) That pity ever dwelt with pride.
SET BY M.R. SMITH.
=$o HILLIS, since we have both been kind, And of each other had our fill ; fo Tell me what pleasure you can find.
In forcing nature 'gainst her will.
'Tis true, you may with art and pain