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All the swains on you attending
Show how much your charms deserve ; But, miser-like, for fear of spending,
You amidst your plenty starve. While a thousand freer lasses,
Who their youth and charms employ,
Haste to the bower thy swain has made ;
Yet still love on; and never fear,
and constancy will prove Enough my present flame to bear,
And make me, though in abfence, love. For, though your presence fate denies,
I feel, alas ! the killing smart; And can, with undiscerned eyes, Behold your picture in my
XXIII. Set by Mr. DE FESCH.
To ease his tortur'd breast;
And makes his pain a jest.
And why to him so true,
Than I with love pursue?
For, since she gives thee death,
A minute more of breath.
"Twere fully; since to me Not love itself a joy can give, But, Amoret, in thee.
XXIV. Set by Mr. DE FESCH. WELL! I will never more complain,
Or call the Fates unkind; Alas ! how fond it is, how vain ! But self-conceitedness does reign
In every mortal mind.
Nor would permit a fight;
Disguis’d in that delight.
They did their power resign ;
And they not unto mine.
Never to grieve or fret :
Without the least regret.
XXV. Set by Mr. C. R.
And an air that is not common;
Fit to make a handsome woman. VOL. II.
XXVIII. NELLY. WI
HILST others proclaim
This nymph, or that swain,
Her eyes shine as bright
As stars in the night,
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 fight,
Oh! spare then the rest,
And think of the best :
She's blooming as May,
Brisk, lively, and gay,
She's prudent and witty,
Sings wondrously pretty,
M IS CE L L A NE A.
AD COMITEM DORCESTRIE,
In Annum ineuntem 1684.
A D J A NU M.
Plurima fic flammæ pabula mittat Arabs;
Nestoreos pofcant fæmina virque dies ; Caflide de pofitâ, placide tic nuncia pacis
Janua sopito cardine limen amet : Candida procedant furtivo tempora motu,
Et faveat Domino quælibet hora meo ! Publica conciliis gravibus seu commoda traciet,
Seu vacuum pectus mollior urat amor ; Seu pia mordaci meditetur vulnera chartâ, Vulnera quæ
tali fola levantur ope; Seu legat oblito facilis mea carmina fastu,
O! bene carminibus confule, Dive, meis, Jane fave, Domini veniet natalis ad aras ;
O! superis ipsis facra fit illa dies :
Quâ tulit illustris nobile mater onus,