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But as the calling Turtles Coo,
I wish and call for Damon too.
Along the River's Side I lye,

And weeping fill the Stream with Tears; Fond Echo too repeats each Sigh,

And ev'ry Grott my Anguish hears.
Ah! gentle Echo, friendly Stream,
Convey my fad Complaints to him.
As thro' the funny Lawn you stray,
Or rush along the gloomy Wood,
If you thou'd find my Wand'rer ftray,

O tell whofe Sorrows fwell your Flood!
O tell my Pain, and tell him, I,
For Love, for Grief, and Damon, dye!

SONG VIII. How calm, &c.


OW calm, Eliza, are these Groves,
How sweet to entertain our Loves?
Free from Sorrow, free from Care,
Jealoufy and black Despair.

In thefe fweet Elyfian Groves
Calmly we enjoy our Loves.




HE comes, my Goddess comes,

Oh! I dream; 'tis not for waking Eyca

To fee fuch wond'rous Joys:

Joys like my mighty Love extream;

All Heav'n is round me, oh! I dream!


Awake, awake, Endymion,

Awake, awake, Endymion, from above,
Thy Cynthia, Cynthia comes!

Thy Cynthia, Cynthia comes!

To crown, to crown, to crown thy Love,

SONG X. In the Impofture.

HAPPY we, who free from Love,

Have no Cares to break our Sleep;

Who thro' pleasant Meadows rove,
Watching of our harmless Sheep.
When we feel the Ev'ning's Air,
And the Night invites us home;
To our Cottage we repair,

Where Content delights to come.

SONG XI, Aurelia, now, &c.


URELIA, now, one Moment loft,
A Thousand Sighs may after coft:
Defires may oft return in vain,
But Youth will ne'er return again.
The fragrant Sweets which do adorn
The glowing Blushes of the Morn,
By Moon are vanish'd all away,
Then let's, Aurelia, live to Day,

SONG XII. In Love and a Bottlę.

Hen Cupid from his Mother fled,

W He changing his Shape,

Thus made his Efcape,

His Mother thought him dead.
Some did him a Kindness,
And cur'd him of Blindness,

And thus difguis'd like me,
The little God could fee.

He enters into Hearts of Men,
And there does spy

(Juft so do I)

That Falfhood lurks within:
That Sighing and Dying
Is Swearing and Lying;

All this, difguis'd like me,
The little God could fee.



Look'd and faw within the Book of Fate,
Where many Days did low'r,

When lo! one happy Hour

Leap'd up, and fmil'd to fave thy finking State.

A Day fhall come, when in thy Pow'r
Thy cruel Foes fhall be:

Then fhall the Land be free,

And thou in Peace shalt reign;

But take, oh! take that Opportunity, Which once refus'd will never come again.

SONG XIV. Ifland Princefs.


ET the dreadful Engines of eternal Will, The Thunder roar, and crooked Lightning kill,

My Rage is hot, is hot, is hot as theirs, as fatal too, And dares as horrid, and dares as horrid, horrid Execution do.

Or let the frozen North its Rancour show,
Within my Breaft far, far greater Tempefts grow,
Defpair's more cold, more cold than all the
Winds can blow.

Can nothing, can nothing warm me,
Can nothing, can nothing warm me?

yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes; yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes; yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes, there, there, there, there, there, Etna, there, there, there, there, there Vefuvio lies, To furnish Hell with Flames, that mounting, mounting reach the Skies.

Can nothing, can nothing warm me,
Can nothing, can nothing warm me?

yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes,
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes,
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Lucinda's Eyes.

Ye Pow'rs, I did but ufe her Name,
And fee how all the Meteors flame;

Blue Lightning flashes round the Court of Sol,
And now the Globe more fiercely burns,
Than once at Phaeton's Fall.

Ah, ah, where, where are now,
Where are now thofc flow'ry Groves,
Where Zephyr's fragrant Winds did play;
Ah, where are now, where are now,
Where are now thofe flow'ry Groves,
Where Zephyr's fragrant Winds did play;
Where guarded by a Troop of Loves,
The fair, the fair Lucinda fleeping lay,
There fung the Nightingale and Lark,
Around us all was fweet and gay,
We ne'er grew fad 'till it grew dark,
Nor nothing fear'd but short'ning Day.

I glow, I glow, I glow, but 'tis with Hate,
Why must I burn, why must I burn,
Why must I burn for this Ingrate?
Why, why must I burn for this Ingrate?
Cool, cool it then, cool it then, and rail,
Since nothing, nothing will prevail,
When a Woman Love pretends,
'Tis but till fhe gains her Ende,
And for better and for wolfe,
Is for Marrow of the Purse;'
Where he jilts you o'er and o'er,
Proves a Slattern or a Whore,

This Hour will teaze, will teaze and vex,
And will cuckold you the next;

They were all contriv'd in Spight,

To torment us, not delight,

But to fcold, to fcold, to fcratch and bite,

And not one of them proves right,

But all, all are Witches, by this Light,

And fo I fairly bid 'em, and the World, good

Good Night, good Night, good Night,
Good Night, good Night.


XV. Flying Fame.

NOD profper long our Noble King,
Our Lives and Safeties all;

A woful Hunting once there did

In Chery-Chafe befal.

To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn
Earl Piercy took his way;

The Child may rue, that is unborn,
The Hunting of that Day.
The ftout Earl of Northumberland
A Vow to God did make,
His Pleasure in the Scottish Woods
Three Summer's Days to take;
The chiefeft Harts in Chevy-Chafe
To kill and bear away.

The Tidings to Earl Douglas came,
In Scotland where he lay:

Who fent Earl Piercy prefent Word,
He would prevent his Sport.
The English Earl not fearing this,
Did to the Woods refort,

With Fifteen Hundred Bow-men bold,
All chofen Men of Might,
Who knew full well, in Time of Need,
To aim their Shafts aright.
The gallant Greyhounds fwiftly ran,
To chase the Fallow-Deer:
On Monday they began to hunt,
When Day-light did appear;
And long before High-Noon they had
An Hundred fat Bucks flain;
They having din'd, the Drovers went
To rouze them up again.

The Bow-men mufter'd on the Hills,
Well able to endure;

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