Convinc'd; the fad Philander cries,
Now, cruel god, affert thy prize,
For love its fatal empire gains;
Yet grant, in pity to my pains,
That when the ftory of my woes
Thefe lines to Amoret difclofe;
Thefe lines the nymph may oft repeat,
And own Philander's lays are fweet.

R

ISE, Cloris, charming maid, arife!
And baffle breaking day;

Shew the adoring world thy eyes il

Are more furprizing gay

The gods of love are fmiling round,

And lead the bridegroom on;
And Hymen has the altar crown'd,
While all thy fighing lovers are undone.

To fee thee pass they throng the plain;
The groves with flowers are ftrown;
And every young and envying fwain
Wishes the hour his own.

Rife then, and let the god of day,
When thou dost to the lover yield,

Behold more treasure given away,
Than he in his vaft circle e'er beheld.

L

The

The WATCH.

HAT none be deceiv'd by time's too quick flowing,
The heart of a lover's a watch always going;

TH

For, tho' time be nimble, its motions

Are quicker,

And thicker

Where love hath its notions.

The great wheel is hope, on which moves defire;
And these, the less orbs, fear and joy do inspire;
The pendulum mind's evermore

A thinking,

And clinking,

And ne'er giving o'er.

Occafion, the hand, is still moving about,
Till by it the critical minute's found out;
And filence the cafe is, to cover
The kiffes,

And bliffes

Enjoy'd by each lover.

TIS

Is not your beauty, nor your wit,
That can my heart obtain;

For they cou'd never conquer yet,
Either my breast or brain:

For if you'll not prove kind to me,
And true as heretofore,
Henceforth I'll scorn your flave to be,
Nor dote upon you more.

Think not my fancy to o'ercome,
By proving thus unkind;

No fmoothed fight, nor fmiling frown,

Can fatisfy my mind:

Pray let Platonicks play fuch pranks,

Such follies I deride;

For love, at leaft, I will have thanks,
And fomething else befide.

Then open-hearted be with me,

As I fhall be with you,

And let our actions be as free

As virtue will allow;

If you'll prove loving, I'll prove kind,

If true, I'll conftant be;

If fortune chance to change your mind,
I'll turn as foon as ye.

Sinee

Since our affections, well ye know,

In equal terms do stand,

Tis in your pow'r to love or no,
Mine's likewise in my hand.
Dispense with your aufterity,
Unconftancy abhor,

Or, by great Cupid's deity,
I'll never love you more..

PR'Y THEE turn that face away,

Whofe fplendor but benights the day;
Sad eyes like mine, and wounded hearts,
Shun the bright rays which beauty darts;
Unwelcome is the man that pries
Into thofe fhades where forrow lies:
Go fhine on happy things, to me.
That bleffing is a mifery,

Whom thy fierce fon, nor warms, but burns,
And like the footy Indian turns;

I'll ferve the night, and there confin'd,
Wish thee lefs fair, or else more kind.

I

On SILVIA Singing.

HEARD, and I faw, and am throughly undone, She has doubled her charms, and will conquer us all; Tho', alas! I'm fo frail, I needed but one,

The least of her glances had made me to fall: But fo thick are the darts, which the fcatters around, That Strephon, poor Strephon is all but one wound.

The charms of her face, and the charms of her voice,
For abfolute ruin fo fiercely conspire

That the fpark, first struck out by the dint of her eyes,
By the force of her breath is blown fatally high'r.
But Strephon is fuch, he the scorching ne'er blames,
For love's Salamander can revel in flames.

WHILE