STILL, Dorinda, I adore ; Think I mean not to deceive you : Staying, I my vows shall fail; You, my love, too nicely coy, Το 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 ftrange magick lies, But, Dorinda, you 're fevere, SET R 4 IX. SET BY MR. DE FESCH, Is it, O Love, thy want of eyes, Or by the Fates decreed, Or for each other bleed? If thou would't make two youthful hearts "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 stretch'd by joy, Ah! wound then, my relentless fair, For thy own fake and mine; That boundless blifs may be my fhare, And double glory thine. WHY, Harry, what ails you? why look you fo fad ? To think and ne'er drink, will make you ftark mad. 'Tis the mistress, the friend, and the bottle, ola boy! Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy ; But wine of the three 's the most cordial bro ther, For one it relieves, and it strengthens the other. XL. SET SINCE my words, though neʼer so tender, With fincereft truth expreft, Cannot make your heart furrender, Nor fo much as warm your breaft: What will move the springs of nature ? Do not, Charmion, rack your lover What fo plainly all discover, Fair-one, 'tis yourself deceiving, SET |