ORELIO cry'd, And learn the fad effects of pride; Yon fhelter'd rofe, how fafe conceal'd! How quickly blafted, when reveal'd!
The fun with warm attractive rays Tempts it to wanton in the blaze: A gale fucceeds from Eastern skies, And all its blufhing radiance dies.
So you, my fair, of charms divine, Will quit the plains too fond to shine Where fame's tranfporting rays allure, Tho' here more happy, more fecure.
The breath of fome neglected maid Shall make you figh you left the shade A breath to beauty's bloom unkind, As, to the rofe, an Eaftern wind.
The nymph reply'd-You firft, my fwain, Confine your fonnets to the plain; One envious tongue alike difarms, You, of your wit, me, f my charms,
What is, unknown, the poet's skill? Or what, unheard, the tuneful thrill? What, unadmir'd, a charming mien, Or what the rofe's blufh, unfeen ?
SONG XV. WINTER. 1746.
O more, ye warbling birds rejoice: Of all that chear'd the plain,
SONG XVI. DAPHNE'S Vifit.
E birds! for whom I rear'd the grove, With melting lay falute my love: My DAPHNE with your notes detain : Or I have rear'd my grove in vain.
Ye flow'rs! before her footsteps rife ; Display at once your brightest dyes; That she your opening charms may fee: Or what were all your charms to me?
Kind Zephyr! brufh each fragrant flow'r, And fhed its odours round my bow'r : Or never more, O gentle wind, Shall I, from thee, refreshment find.
Ye ftreams! if e'er your banks I lov'd, If e'er your native founds improv'd, May each foft murmur foothe my fair Or oh! 'twill deepen my despair.
And thou, my grot! whofe lonely bounds The melancholy pine furrounds, May DAPHNE praise thy peaceful gloom; Or thou shalt prove her DAMON's tomb.
Written in a Collection
of BACCHANALIAN SONGS.
Dieu, ye jovial youths, who join To plunge old care in floods of wine;
And, as your dazled eye-balls roll, Difcern him struggling in the bowl.
Not yet is hope fo wholly flown, Not yet is thought fo tedious grown, But limpid ftream and shady tree Retain, as yet, some sweets for me.
And fee, thro' yonder filent grove, See yonder does my DAPHNE rove With pride her foot-steps I pursue, And bid your frantic joys adieu.
The fole confufion I admire, Is that my DAPHNE's eyes infpire: I fcorn the madness you approve, And value reafon next to love.
Imitated from the FRENCH.
ES, these are the scenes where with Iris I ftray'd,
YES, theft wether (way for a
But short was her fway for fo lovely a maid!
In the bloom of her youth to a cloyster she run; In the bloom of her graces, too fair for a nun! Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must prove So fatal to beauty, fo killing to love!
Yes, these are the meadows, the fhrubs and the plains; Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains; How many foft moments I spent in this grove! How fair was my nymph! and how fervent my love! Be ftill tho', my heart! thine emotion give o'er; Remember, the season of love is no more.
With her how I ftray'd amid fountains and bow'rs, Or loiter'd behind and collected the flow'rs! Then breathlefs with ardor my fair-one purfu'd, And to think with what kindness my garland fhe view'd! But be ftill, my fond heart! this emotion give o'er ! Fain wouldst thou forget thou must love her no more.
The HALCYON.
HY o'er the verdant banks of ooze
Does yonder halcyon speed so fast;
'Tis all because she would not lofe Her fav'rite calm that will not laft.
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