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: Die then, unhappy lover ! die;

For, since she gives thee death, The world has nothing that can buy : A minute more of breath.

Yet, though I could your scorn outlive,
'Twere folly; since to me
Not love itself a joy can give,
But, Amoret, in thee.

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Yet I by this have learnt the wit,
Never to grieve or fret:

Contentedly I will submit,

And think that best which they think fit, Without the least regret.

XXV.
SET BY MIR. C. R.

CHLor, beauty has and wit,
And an air that is not common;

Every charm in her does meet,
Fit to make a handsome woman.

But we do not only find
Here a lovely face or feature;

For she's merciful and kind,
Beauty's answer'd by good nature.

She is always doing good,
Of her favours never sparing,

And, as all good christians should,
Keeps poor mortals from despairing.

Jove the power knew of her charms,
And that no man could endure them,

So, providing 'gainst all harms,
Gave to her the power to cure them,

And 'twould be a cruel thing,
When her black eyes have rais’d desire,

Should she not her bucket bring,
And kindly help to quench the fire.

XXVI.

SINCE, Moggy, 1 mun bid adieu,
How can I help despairing?

Let cruel fate us still pursue,
There's nought more worth my caring.

'Twas she alone could calm my soul,
When racking thoughts did grieve me;

Her eyes my trouble could control,
And into joys deceive me.

Farewell, ye brooks; no more along
Your banks mun I be walking:

No more you'll hear my pipe or song
Or pretty Moggy's talking.

But I by death an end will give
To grief, since we mun sever:

For who can after parting live,
Ought to be wretched ever.

XXVII.

SoME kind angel, gently flying,
Mov’d with pity at my pain,

Tell Corinna, I am dying,
Till with joy we meet again.

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Tell Corinna, since we parted,
I have never known delight:

And shall soon be broken-hearted,
If I longer want her sight.

Tell her how her lover, mourning,
Thinks each lazy day a year;

Cursing every morn returning,
Since Corinna is not here.

Tell her too, not distant places,
Will she be but true and kind,

Join'd with time and change of faces,
E’er shall shake my constant mind.

XXVIII. NELLY.

WHILST others proclaim This nymph or that swain, Dearest Nelly the lovely I’ll sing; She shall grace every verse, I’ll her beauties rehearse, Which lovers can't think an ill thing.

Her eyes shine as bright
As stars in the night,
Her complexion divinely is fair;
Her lips, red as a cherry,
Would a hermit make merry,
And black as a coal is her hair.

Her breath, like a rose,
Its sweets does disclose,
Whenever you ravish a kiss;
Like ivory inchas'd,
Her teeth are well plac'd,
An exquisite beauty she is.

Her plump breasts are white,
Delighting the sight,
There Cupid discovers her charms;
Oh! spare then the rest,
Amd think of the best:
'Tis heaven to die in her arms.

She's blooming as May, Brisk, lively, and gay, The Graces play all round about her; She's prudent and witty, Sings wondrously pretty, And there is no living without her.

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