XX. SET BY MR. DE FESCH. Againft my will I must obey, And leave those sweet endearing charms. II. Yet ftill love on, and never fear III. For tho' your presence Fate denies, XXI. SET BY MR. DE FESCH. OUCH the lyre, touch ev'ry ftring; A fong which fhall immortal be, A Leonora, whofe bleft birth Has no relation to this earth. 12 6 Ah! fair one, why to me fo coy, And why to him so true? Who with more coldness flights the joy Than I with love purfue. III. Die, then, unhappy lover, die; For fince the gives thee death, The world has nothing that can buy IV. Yet tho' I could your fcorn outlive, 'Twere folly, fince to me Not love itself a joy can give But, Amoret, in thee. XXIII. SET BY MR. DE FESCH. WELL, WELL, I will never more complain, Alas! how fond it is, how vain! But felf-conceitednefs does reign II. Yet I by this have learn'd the wit Never to grieve or fret ; Contently I will fubmit, And think that best which they think fit, Without the least regret. XXIV. SET BY MR. C. R LOE beauty has, and wit, CLOE And an air that is not common; Ev'ry charm in her does meet, But we do not only find Here a lovely face or feature, Beauty's answer'd by good-nature. III. She is always doing good, IV. Jove the pow'r knew of her charms, V. And 'twould be a cruel thing, When her black eyes have rais'd defire, And kindly help to quench the fire. XXV. INCE, Moggy, I mun bid adieu, Let cruel Fate us still pursue, There's nought more worth my caring. II. 'Twas fhe alone could calm my foul III. Farewel ye Brooks! no more along IV. But I by death an end will give 32 16 12 For who can after parting live, Join'd with time and change of faces, XXVII. IH My lovely maid, ASTE, my Nannette, Hafte to the bow'r Thy fwain has made. II. For thee alone. I made the bow'r, III. None but my sheep 16 12 16 To keep the wolf V. Guard thou the sheep To her fo dear; My own, alas! Are lefs my care. VI. But of the wolf If thou'rt afraid. 16 20 W XXVIII. NELLY. HILST others proclaim This nymph or that swain, Deareft Nelly the lovely I'll fing; I'll her beauties rehearse, Which lovers can't think an ill thing. Her eyes shine as bright II. As ftars in the night; III. Her breath, like a rofe, 32 38 IV. Her plump breasts are white, |