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When absent from thee, I grew restless to all, And dreaded the dangers that might thee befal ; But trust me, my
fair one! when
did appear, Ah, little
Colin felt here!
Passions cross’d the deep deform; Rude and raging tho' the motion,
Virtue fearless braves the storm.
Storms and tempests may blow over,
And subside to gentle gales ; So the poor despairing lover,
When least hoping, oft prevails.
S O N G
Source of all sublime delight; When with mutual inclination,
Two-fond hearts in one unite.
What are titles, pomp, or riches,
If compar'd with true content ? That false joy which now bewitches, When obtain'd we may repent.
Lawless paffion brings vexation,
But a chaste and constant love,
the wind is often changing,
Like the sea it ebbs and flows; Let the youth whofe heart is ranging,
Fear the nymph whom moft he knows.
But give me, Fate, one faithful pilot,
To direct and guide my soul : Changing lovers then I'll smile at,
She's my'magnet, she's my pole.
TO ATTAIN A LONG LIFE.
HOME hear me, my boy, hast a mind to live long,
Take a dose of brisk claret, and part of a fong ; A gen’rous heat good wine does impart, And time to good music is beat by the heart : Let each be content with his own proper store, And keep ourselves honeft, though the world keeps us
ELL me, lovely shepherd, where
Thou 'feed'st at noon thy fleecy care ;
That guards thee from the mid-day heat ;
And ze fall get a sheep's heid weel baken in a pie,
-Wom.-Cummer, I hae
Man.--Are they to zour ain guidman ?-Wom.-No,
Cummer, no; For four o’ them were gotten quhan Willie was awa'.
Sung in the Chaplet by Mr Vernon and Mrs Scott.
Where poplars far ftretching o'er-arch the cool tide;
blithe kids, now your gambols may please, For my shepherd is kind, and my heart is at ease.
For my shepherd, &c.
the theme of each lay;
For he who, &c.
Laura. Ye youths, who fear nought but the frowns of the fair, 'Tis yours
to relieve, not to add to their care ; Then scorn to their ruin assistance to lend, Nor betray the sweet creatures you're born to defend.
Nor betray, &c.
To preserve, &c.
WAS at Midsummer's tide, no matter the day,
The lambkins were merry, and the birds grac'd
the spray, I rambled with Patty unto the green grove, Attended by no one but music and love.
The murmuring brooks in sweet harmony flow'd, And the soft breathing zephyrs so wantonly blow'd; We rambled, we tattld, all in the green grove, Attended by no one but music and love.
Flow on, soft meanders, in mirth ever flow,
May Fortune, e'er smiling, bless Patty and I,
HE lily and the blushing rose
To many give delight ;
As lovely women,
Or what gives poets birth?
Or pleasure dwell on earth? But lovely women, &c. Or what's the pageantry of kings?
Or pleasures of the bowl?
Destroyers of the foul, Unless sweet women, &c. When men are fore oppress'd with grief,
and roam in search of peace, There's nought can give fuch fure relief, And make their torments cease,
pow'r has women, Virtuous
Then, fince the fair give such delight,
Aloud resound their praise ;
And not their voices raise? To lovely women, &c.
The rich, the poor, the bold, the brave,
The lord, the clown, and king,
To praise fweet women, &c.