W

HEN passions, ungovern'd by reafon and art,

And joys, in idea, tranfported my heart,

O how I delighted in lonely retreats!

Where the loves and the mufes had chofen their feats.

There oft was I wont the long day to confu.ne,
In wishing, and promifing pleasures to come:
But wishes and promises then were in vain;
For youth was to me the fad feafon of pain.

Afflicted with forrows of various fort,
I hated diverfions, and irksome grew sport;
The only poor folace my life cou'd poffefs,
Was in imaginations and dreams of fuccefs.

Sometimes to alleviate the weight of my woe,
I fip'd of the ftreams that from Helicon flow:
But mufick and poetry foften'd my heart,
Cou'd never content, and but feldom divert.

O'erwhelm'd with distress, and nigh to de pair,
1, refolute, travell'd to breathe a new air;
In fearch of relief to my turbulent mind,
Left kindred and country, and bufinefs behind.

But, ah, cou'd a stranger, unfriended and poor,
Expect what he fought for wou'd come in an hour?
Improv'd was my anguish, redoubled my pain,
And trav'lling, like all other comforts, prov'd vain.
VOL. III.

X

Yet

Yet patient and wifer I grew by degrees,
And learnt due fubmiffion to eternal decrees.
My paflions fubjected to reafon's controul,
I found fatisfaction break in on my foul.

And, firft, to my wish, did I meet with a friend, Who knew the world well, and right counsel cou'd lend, Brave, gen'rous and witty, good-humour'd and free, Juft, prudent, polite, and obliging to me.

In his converfation, I fenfibly found

My fuff'rings with portion of happiness crown'd.
Oh! thought I, now nothing remains to compleat
My blifs, but a nymph, foft, gay, and difcreet.

I found one with beauty, good-humour, and wit,
Whofe manners and conduct my fancy did fit;
The leaft of her fex by folly mifled,

The kindeft companion, and true to my bed.

What more that I wifh'd-for remains unbeftow'd But fame and a fortune above the dull crowd? They are granted, and nothing is now to be done, But to make a right use of the happiness won.

Then far from the town, and the court I'll repair, Accompany'd with my dear friend and my fair; My laft fcene of life in fweet folitude lay, Prepare for next world, and steal gently away.

UPON

U

PON Clarinda's panting breast
The happy Strephon lay;

With love and beauty jointly preft
To pass the time away.
Fresh raptures of transporting love
Have ftruck his fenfes dumb;
He envies not the powers above,
Nor all the joys to come.

As painful bees abroad do rove,
To fetch their treafures home;
So Strephon rov'd the fields of love,
To fill her honey-comb:
Her ruby lips he kist and prest,
From whence all joys derive;
Then, humming round her fnowy breast,
Strait crept into her hive.

THOU

art fo fair and cruel too,

I am amaz'd what I fhall do
To compass my defire:

Sometimes thy eyes do me invite,
But when I venture, kill me quite;
Yet ftill increafe my fire.

I ftill have thoughts my love to quell,
And all its furies to repel,
Since I no hope can find;

But when I think of leaving thee,
My heart as much doth torture me,
As 'twould rejoice if kind.

I ftill muft love, tho' hardly us'd;
And never proffer'd but refus'd;
Can any fuffer more?

Be coy, be cruel, do, oh! do thy worft;
Tho' for thy fake I am accurst,

I muft and will adore.

The

L

The COMPLAINT.

HE fun was funk beneath the hill,

TH

The western cloud was lin'd with gold;
The sky was clear, the wind was still,

The flocks were penn'd within the fold:
When in the filence of the grove
Poor Damon thus despair'd of love.

Who feeks to pluck the fragrant rose

From the hard rock, or oozy beech;
Who from each weed that barren grows
Expects the grape, or downy peach,
With equal faith may hope to find
The truth of love in womankind.

No flocks have I, or fleecy care,

No fields that wave with golden grain, Nor paftures green, or gardens fair,

A woman's venal heart to gain; Then all in vain my fighs must prove, Whofe whole eftate, alas! is love..

How wretched is the faithful youth,

Since womens hearts are bought and fold? They ask no vows of facred truth;

Whene'er they figh, they figh for gold :.. Gold can the frowns of fcorn removeThus I am fcorn'd-who have but love.