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To that fad folitude the weeping dame,
Wild with her loss, and swoln with forrow, came.
There was she wont to vent her griess, and mourn
Those dear delights that must no more return.
Thither that morn with more than usual care
She sped, but what joy to find him there!
As juft arriv'd, and weary with the way,
Retir'd to soft repose her hero lay.
Now near approaching she began to creep
With careful steps, loth to disturb his sleep;
Till quite o'ercome with tenderness the few,
And round his neck her arms in transport threw.
But, when she found him dead, no tongue can tell
The pangs she felt; she shriekd, and swooning fell.
Waking, with loud laments fhe pierc'd the skies,
And fill'd th' affrighted forest with her cries.
That fatal hour the palace gates the barr'd,
And fix'd around the coast a stronger guard ;
Now rare appearing, and at distance seen,
With crowds of black misfortunes plac'd between ;
Mischiefs of ev'ry kind, corroding care,
And fears, and jealousies, and dark despair.
And since that day (the wretched world must own
These mournful truths by fad experience known)
No mortal e'er enjoy'd that happy clime,
And ev'ry thing on earth fubmits to Time.



Thé E V E R-G RE E N:

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'HEN tepid breezes fann'd the air,

And violets perfum'd the glade, Pensive and grave my charming fair

Beneath yon fhady lime was laid.

Flourish, faid I, thofe favour'd boughs,

And ever footh the purest Aames ! Witness to none but faithful vows!

Wounded by none but faithful names !

Yield every tree that crowns the grove

To this which pleas'd my wandering dear! Range where you will, ye bands of love,

Ye ftill fhall seem to reyel here.

Lavinia smild and whilft her arm

Her fair reclining head sustain'd, Betray'd she felt some fresh alarm;

And thus the meaning smile explain's.

When summer suns shine forth no more,

Will then this lime its shelter yield ?
Protect us when the tempests roar,
And winter drives us from the field?

Yet faithful then the fir shall last

I smile, she cry'd, but ah! I tremble,
To think when my fair season's past,

Which Damon then will most resemble.

A N S W E R.
0 0 timorous maid! can time or chance

A pure ingenuous flame controul ?
O lay aside that tender glance,
That melts my frame, that kills my

foul !


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But whilft thy mind shall seem thus fair,

Thy soul's unfading charms be seen ;
Thou may't resign that shape and air,

Yet find thy swain an ever-green.

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He warmest friend, I ever prov'd,

My bitterest foe I fee :
The kindeft maid I ever lov'd,

Is falfe to love and me.


But shall I make the angry vow,

Which tempts my wavering mind ?
Shall dark suspicion cloud my brow,

And bid me fhun mankind ?

Avaunt, thou hell-born fiend ! no more

Pretend my steps to guide ;
Let me be cheated o'er and o'er,

But let me still confide.

If this be folly, all my claim

To wisdom I refign;
But let no fage presume to name

His happinefs with mine.





IS true, my with will never find

Another nymph so fair, so true;
Since all that's bright, and all that's kind,

In those expressive eyes I view.

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