Search hidden Nature, and there find
A treasure to enrich thy mind;
Discover arts not yet reveal'd,

But let my Mistress live conceal'd :

Though men by knowledge wiser grow,
Yet Her 'tis wisdom not to know.

SONG.

IN THE PERSON OF A LADY TO HER INCONSTANT

SERVANT.

HEN on the altar of my hand,

WHEN

Bedew'd with many a kiss and tear, Thy now-revolted heart did stand

An humble martyr, thou did'st swear Thus (and the God of Love did hear): 'By those bright glances of thine eye, Unless thou pity me, I die.'

When first those perjured lips of thine,
Be-paled with blasting sighs, did seal
Their violated faith on mine,

From the soft bosom that did heal
Thee, thou my melting heart did'st steal :
My soul, enflamed with thy false breath,
Poison'd with kisses, suck'd in death.

Yet I nor hand nor lip will move,
Revenge or mercy to procure
From the offended God of Love:
My curse is fatal, and my pure
Love shall beyond thy scorn endure.
If I implore the Gods, they'll find
Thee too ungrateful, me too kind.

N°

TRUCE IN LOVE INTREATED.

[O more, Blind God! for see, my heart Is made thy quiver, where remains No void place for another dart ;

And, alas! that conquest gains Small praise, that only brings away A tame and unresisting prey.

Behold! a nobler foe, all arm'd,
Defies thy weak artillery ;

That hath thy bow and quiver charm'd
A rebel Beauty, conquering Thee:
If thou darest equal combat try,
Wound her, for 'tis for her I die.

SONG.

TO MY RIVAL.

HENCE, vaine Intruder, haste away!

Wash not with thy unhallow'd brine
The footsteps of my Celia's shrine ;
Nor on her purer altars lay
Thy empty words, accents that may

Some looser Dame to love incline:
She must have offerings more divine.

Such pearly drops, as youthful May
Scatters before the rising day;
Such smooth soft language, as each line
Might stroke an angry God, or stay
Jove's thunder, make the hearers pine
With envy do this, thou shalt be
Servant to her, Rival to me.

BOLDNESS IN LOVE.

(THE MARIGOLD.)

ARK how the bashful morn, in vain,

M Courts the amorous Marigold,

With sighing blasts and weeping rain ;
Yet she refuses to unfold.

But when the Planet of the Day
Approacheth, with his powerful ray,

Then she spreads, then she receives

His warmer beams into her virgin leaves.

So shalt thou thrive in love, fond Boy!
If thy tears and sighs discover
Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy

The just reward of a bold Lover.
But when with moving accents thou
Shalt constant faith and service vow,

Thy Celia shall receive those charms
With open ears, and with unfolded arms.

A PASTORAL DIALOGUE:

BETWEEN CELIA AND CLEON.

AS Celia rested in the shade

With Cleon by her side,

The Swain thus courted the young Maid,
And thus the Nymph replied.

Cleon.--Sweet! let thy Captive fetters wear,
Made of thine arms and hands;

Gelia.

Till such as thraldom scorn, or fear,
Envy those happy bands.'

'Then thus my willing arms I wind
About thee, and am so

Thy prisoner for my self I bind,
Until I let thee go.'

Cleon. Happy that slave whom the fair foe
Ties in so soft a chain.'

Celia.- Far happier I, but that I know
Thou wilt break loose again.'

Cleon. By thy immortal beauties, never!'
Celia.- Frail as thy love 's thine oath.'
Cleon.-Though beauty fade, my love lasts ever.'
Celia. Time will destroy them both.'

Cleon.-'I dote not on that snow-white skin.'
Celia. What then?' Cl.-Thy purer mind.'
Celia. It loved too soon.' Cl.-Thou had'st not been
So fair, if not so kind.'

Celia.-'Oh strange vain fancy!' Cl.-'But yet true.'
Celia.-Prove it!' Cleon.-'Then make a braid
Of those loose flames that circle you,

My sun's, and yet your shade.'

Celia." "Tis done.' Cleon.-'Now give it me.'
Celia.- "Thus thou

Shalt thine own error find;

If these were beauties, I am now
Less fair, because more kind.'

Cleon. You shall confess you err: that hair,
Shall it not change the hue,

Or leave the golden mountain bare?'

Celia.- Ay me! it is too true.'

Cleon. But this small wreath shall ever stay
In its first native prime;

And smiling, when the rest decay,
The triumph sing of Time.'

Celia. Then let me cut from thy fair grove
One branch, and let that be

An emblem of eternal Love:

For such is mine to thee.

Both. Thus are we both redeem'd from Time.'
Cleon.-I by thy grace.' Celia.—' And I
Shall live in thy Immortal rhyme,
Until the Muses die.'

Cleon. By heaven!' Celia.-'Swear not! if I must weep,

Jove shall not smile at me.

This kiss, my heart, and thy faith keep!'

Cleon. This breathes my soul to thee.'

Then forth the thicket Thyrsis rush'd,
Where he saw all their play;

The Swain stood still, and smiled, and blush'd :
The Nymph fled fast away.

WHEREF

GRIEF ENGROSSED.

THEREFORE do thy sad numbers flow,
So full of woe?

Why dost thou melt in such soft strains,

Whilst she disdains?

If she must still deny,

Weep not, but die !

And in thy Funeral fire

Shall all her fame expire :

Thus both shall perish, and as thou, upon thy Hearse Shall want her tears, so she shall want thy Verse.

Repine not then at thy blest state :

Thou art above thy fate.

But

my fair Celia will not give

Love enough to make me live;
Nor yet dart from her eye
Scorn enough to make me die.

Then let me weep alone, till her kind breath

Or blow my tears away, or speak my death.