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VIII. Set by Mr. SMITH..

TILL, Dorinda, I adore;

STIL

you:

Think I mean not to deceive
For I lov'd you much before,
And, alas! now love you more,
Though I force myself to leave you.

Staying, I my vows shall fail;
Virtue yields, as love grows ftronger;
Fierce defires will fure prevail;
You are fair; and I am frail,
And dare truft myself no longer.

You, my love, too nicely coy,
Left I fhould have gain'd the treasure,
Made my vows and oaths destroy
The pleafing hopes I did enjoy
Of all my future peace and pleasure.

To my vows I have been true,
And in filence hid my anguish,
But I cannot promise too

What my love may make me do, While with her for whom I languish.

For in thee strange magick lies, And my heart is too, too tender; Nothing's proof against those eyes, Beft refolves and stricteft ties

To their force muft foon furrender.

But,

But, Dorinda, you 're fevere,
I moft doating, thus to fever;
Since from all I hold moft dear,

That you may no longer fear,
I divorce myself for ever.

IX. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.

IS it, O Love, thy want of eyes,

Or by the Fates decreed,
That hearts fo feldom fympathize,

Or for each other bleed?

If thou would'st make two youthful hearts
One amorous fhaft obey;

'T would fave thee the expence of darts,
And more extend thy fway.

Forbear, alas! thus to destroy

Thyfelf, thy growing power;

For that which would be ftretch'd by joy,
Despair will foon devour.

Ah! wound then my relentless fair,

For thy own fake and mine;

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X. Set by Mr. SMITH.

WHY, Harry, what ails you? why look you fo fad?

To think and ne'er drink, will make you ftark-mad. 'Tis the miftrefs, the friend, and the bottle, old boy! Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy; But wine of the three 's the most cordial brother, For one it relieves, and it ftrengthens the other.

S

XI. Set by Mr. SMITH.

INCE my words, though ne'er so tender,
With fincereft truth expreft,

Cannot make your heart furrender,

Nor fo much as warn your breaft:

What will move the fprings of nature?
What will make you think me true?
Tell me, thou myfterious creature,
Tell poor Strephon what will do.

Do not, Charmion, rack your lover
Thus, by feeming not to know

What fo plainly all discover,
What his eyes fo plainly show.

Fair-one, 'tis yourself deceiving,
'Tis against your Reafon's law:
Atheist-like (th' effect perceiving)
Still to difbelieve the cause.

XII. Set

XII. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.

MORELLA, charming without art,

And kind without defign,

Can never lofe the smallest part
Of fuch a heart as mine.

Oblig'd a thousand feveral ways,
It ne'er can break her chains;
While paffion, which her beauties raife,
My gratitude maintains.

L

XIII. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.

OVE! inform thy faithful creature

How to keep his fair-one's heart;

Muft it be by truth of nature?
Or by poor diffembling art?
Tell the fecret, fhew the wonder,
How we both may gain our ends 16

I am loft if we're afunder,

Ever tortur'd if we 're friends.

XIV. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.
TOUCH the lyre, on every string,
Touch it, Orpheus, I will fing
A song which shall immortal be;
Since the I fing's a deity;
A Leonora, whose bleft birth
Has no relation to this earth.

XV. Set

XV. Set by Mr. SMITH..

NCE I was unconfin'd and free,

ON Would I had been fo ftill!.

Enjoying sweetest liberty,
And roving at my will.

But now, not master of my heart,
Cupid does fo decide,

That two fhe-tyrants fhall it part,
And fo poor me divide.

Victoria's will I must obey,

She acts without control: Phillis has fuch a taking way,

She charms my very

foul.

Deceiv'd by Phillis' looks and fmiles,

Into her fnares I run :

Victoria fhews me all her wiles,

Which yet I dare not fhun.

From one I fancy every kifs

Has fomething in 't divine;
And, awful, tafte the balmy blifs,
That joins her lips with mine.

But, when the other I embrace,
Though she be not a queen,

Methinks 'tis fweet with fuch a lafs
To tumble on the green.

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