TO IANTHE. BY MR. R. A. DAVENPORT. BELOV'D, each anxious fear repel; Think not that aught our hearts can sever: Heaven knows I love thee passing well; And knows I less can love thee never. My soul a transient flame shall scorn: To thee I've sworn no short-lived duty, Like theirs whose passion beauty-born, Still sickens and expires with beauty. Sorrow and Pain those locks may rend Dark hues may with thy lilies blend; Alas! 'tis true that I may see Their rugged hands thy graces ruin, And sad indeed, my soul will be, With sighs their fatal progress viewing! But thou no altered love shalt find, ON A FOP TURNED EPICURE. SAVING, you say, Jack Selfish grows, ODE ON TIME. BY MISS SEWARD. O'ER him, by health and fortune crown'd, Smooth as the young Camilla, borne O'er plenteous fields of ripen'd corn, But o'er the dim Form, press'd by woes, Sweeps his broad scythe, and as he goes TO CHLOE ANGRY. BY OSMUND BEAUVOIR, LL.D. NOV. 8, 1742. FORGIVE, injur'd fair, this attempt to remove Of our wisdom, to reason to quit our pretences; But when Stella and Flavia in one Fair unite, How the devil can any man keep in his senses? Did you know with what sorrow, with sighs how sincere I've lamented my crime, you would sure be more tender. Ah! Chloe, that judge must be thought too severe Who condemns for chance-medley th' unhappy offender. Yet alas! such my judge, and so hard are her laws; Must I ne'er then behold the fair charmer again? Ne'er gaze on those eyes, and ne'er hang on that voice? Would to God I had ne'er known the use of a pen! Did you e'er the quick whirlwind of passions endure, That distracts parting lovers, you'd quit that disdain! Had your breast ever felt what I feel, you would sure What you blame in my conduct indulge to my pain! To misconstrue an error thus into abuse, Oh Chloe, is sure something more than unkind; For the slips lovers make may well plead for excuse, Since the God, who directs all their actions, is blind, ON THE DEATH OF DR. EVANS OF KNIGHTSBRIDGE. EVANS, of worm-destroying note With little folks who breed 'em, Thus, 'twixt our Doctor and his foes, |