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TO CLORIS.

Cloris, I cannot say your eyes
Did my unwary heart surprise;
Nor will I swear it was your face,
Your shape, or any nameless grace:
For you are so entirely fair,

To love a part injustice were ;

No drowning man can know which drop,
Of water his last breath did stop:
So when the stars in heaven appear,

And join to make the night look clear;
The light we no one's bounty call,
But the obliging gift of all.
He that does lips or hands adore,
Deserves them only, and no more;
But I love all and every part,
And nothing less can ease my heart.
Cupid, that lover, weakly strikes,
Who can express what 'tis he likes.

Indifference excused.

Love, when 'tis true, needs not the aid
Of sighs nor oaths to make it known;

And, to convince the cruel'st maid,
Lovers should use their love alone:

Into their very looks 'twill steal;

And he that most would hide his flame, Does in that case his pain reveal,

Silence itself can love proclaim.

This, my Aurelia, made me shun
The paths that common lovers tread;
Whose guilty passions are begun

Not in their heart, but in their head.

I could not sigh, and with cross'd arms
Accuse your rigour and my fate,
Nor tax your beauty with such charms
As men adore and women hate:

But careless liv'd, and without art, Knowing my love you must have spy'd ;

And thinking it a foolish part,

To set to shew, what none can hide.

SONG.

Love still has something of the sea,
From whence his mother rose;
No time his slaves from doubt can free,
Nor give their thoughts repose:

They are becalm'd in clearest days,

And in rough weather tost;
They wither under cold delays,
Or are in tempests lost.

One while they seem to touch the port,
Then straight into the main,
Some angry wind in cruel sport
The vessel drives again.

At first disdain and pride they fear,

Which if they chance to 'scape, Rivals and falsehood soon appear In a more dreadful shape.

By such degrees to joy they come,
And are so long withstood,

So slowly they receive the sum,
It hardly does them good.

"Tis cruel to prolong a pain ;
And to defer a joy,

Believe me, gentle Celemene,
Offends the winged boy.

An hundred thousand oaths your
Perhaps would not remove;
And if I gaz'd a thousand years
I could no deeper love.

The Soldier's Catch.

fears

Room, boys, room; room, boys, room;
For from Ireland we come ;

We have maul'd the original Tories;

We have baffled the league,

Between Monsieur and Teague,

And eclips'd the grand Lewis his glories.

They all fly in the field,

Their best garrisons yield,

They stand trembling while we take their passes;

Our brave King at our head,

We fear no steel nor lead,

But laugh at their beads and their masses!

If some blood we have spilt,
To compound for the guilt,

In love's camp we will do double duty,
Mankind we'll repair,

With the leave of the fair,

And pay our arrears to true beauty.
The next summer for France,
We will boldly advance,

Our noble redeemer shall lead us;
We will break the slaves' chains,
And drink off their champains,
To the health of that hero that freed us.

He hates Lewis le Grand,

Like a true Englishman,

And ne'er will consent to a treaty,
Till each neighbouring crown

Have what's justly their own,

And the French strike sail when they meet ye.

Since Elizabeth's reign,

No protestant Queen

We have had, but the present God bless her; Since our Edward the fourth,

No brave prince of such worth,

But William his valiant successor.

With a Queen so devout,
And a people so stout,

A parliament that will supply 'em,

A cause that is right,

And a King that will fight,

Our enemies all we defie 'em.

SONG.

Who would not gaze away his heart

On Mariana's eyes,

Did not her high and just disdain
The bold delight chastise?

Mirth and joy she spreads around,
Like the sun's cheerful light,
When his returning beams destroy
The empire of the night.

Her beauty with amazement strikes,
If with no more, the old :
Her virtue tempers with despair
The youthful and the bold.

Her goodness so disarms her wit
Of the offensive part;
Whilst others only charm the ear,
She steals the very heart.

Let us no more defame the fair,
But learn to praise again;
Bright Mariana's worth demands
A new and nobler strain.

So, to the feather'd kind, the spring
Restores their wonted voice;
On every bough they sit and sing,

And court their new-made choice.

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