III.

But now, fweet bard, thy heav'nly fong

Enchants us here no more;

Their darling glory loft too long
Thy once lov'd fhades deplore.

IV.

Yet ftill for beauteous G-lle's fake,

The Mufes here remain;

Glle,

-lle, whofe eyes have power to make A POPE of every fwain.

N

XX

EPIGRAM.

By the Same.

ONE without Hope e'er lov'd the brightest Fair,
But Love can hope where Reason would despair.

F

Written in the Year 1740.

By the Same,

AIR Nature's sweet fimplicity

With elegance refin'd,

Well in thy Seat, my friend, I fee,

But better in thy Mind.

To both from courts and all their state

Eager I fly, to prove

Joys far above a courtier's fate,

Tranquillity and love.

Το

But Venus now to punish me,
For having feign'd fo well,
Has made my heart fo fond of thee,
That not the whole Aonian quire

Can accents foft enough inspire,

Its real flame to tell.

To

A1

LL that of Love can be exprefs'd

In these soft numbers fee;

But, Lucy, would you know the reft,

It must be read in me.

To the Same.

O him who in an hour must die,

Not swifter feems that hour to fly,

Than flow the minutes feem to me,
Which keep me from the fight of thee.

Not more that trembling wretch would give
Another day or year to live;

Than I to fhorten what remains

Of that long hour which thee detains.

Oh! come to my impatient arms,

Oh! come with all thy heav'nly charms,
At once to justify and pay

The pain I feel from this delay.

To

1

XXXX

T

To the Same.

I.

O ease my troubled mind of anxious care,
Last night the fecret casket I explor❜d;

Where all the letters of my abfent fair,

(His richest treasure) careful Love had ftor'd: II.

In every word a magic fpell I found

Of pow'r to charm each bufy thought to rest, Though every word increas'd the tender wound Of fond defire still throbbing in my breast.

III.

So to his hoarded gold the miser steals,
And lofes every forrow at the fight;
Yet wishes still for more, nor ever feels
Entire contentment, or fecure delight.

IV.

Ah! should I lofe thee, my too lovely maid,
Couldst thou forget thy heart was ever mine,
Fear not thy letters should the change upbraid :
My hand each dear memorial shall resign :

V. Not