Sweet Lucinda, heav'nly fair, Mild as May, or dawning light, Can my heart thus falfe appear? Could deceit approach thy fight? Or a wanton with arife, 'Neath the chaftnefs of thofe eyes? LUCINDA. Gentle youth, your gen'rous tale, Oft has charm'd me in the grove ; I't no more my flame conceal, Nor diftruft the fwain I love : But 'tis time our flocks to feed, And our lambs to pasture lead. Вотн. Thro' the pearly, glift'ning dew, To the fold then let us hafte; Hear, the tender, bleating ewes, Long the morning herb to tafte; And at noon, within the grove, We'll renew our vows of love. SONG 1043. THE PLACEMAN. A THE patriot in the fenate burns, By place or penfion well apply'd, ong did my heart fecure defy And ftill it's liberty could boaft " At cafe, while toast reign'd after toast. SONG 1044.. Written by Mr. W-LL-S. My Phillis fuch charms does impart, A heart that will ever prove true. Her looks fully speak her regard. But fhould the e'er flight her fond swain, Muft think of her charms, and ftill love. SONG 1045. Written by Mr. SELLEW. TO fpeak my mind, of womankind, I never yet, two females met We ever find, that like the wind, They gad about, from ball to rout, On fcandal ever feeding; To show their fenfe and breeding. They ne'er will wisdom learn; And when once bent, they're fo intent, As foon the tide you'll turn. Seldom pleafing, often teizing; Murmuring if they're ty'd; If fui jurls, then they're furies, Never, never fatished. STREPHON; A PASTÓRÁL BALLAD. Written by Mr. HAWKINS. AS Strephon was ftrolling along to the fair, So blithefome, fo bonny, and quite debonair, Reclin'd in a grove a young thepherdless lay,, To rest her awhile from the heat of the day. Her sheep had been ftraying wide over the plain, And one he had loft, which he fought for in vain, That drove the dear damfel almost to despair, For doleful fhe feem'd, and dejected her air. In filence the fwain fat him down on a stile,. To hear her complainings, then spoke with a fmile, That rouz'd'all her paffions, and thrill'd thro' her heart; So keen was his arrow, fo piercing his dart: Likewife a ftraw-hat, for to him she was kind. Her looks were delightful, her charms were most sweet; Her dress, tho' not gaudy, was cleanly and neat; From pride and ambition the maiden was free; Untainted her mind, and fo virtuous was the. The youth, as he view'd her, the fonder he grew, And vow'd he would ever be faithful and true: He promis'd to banish all forrow and ftrife; And made the dear damfel, next morning, his wife. SONG 1047. THE WINTER WISH. Written by Mr. MAVOR. STRIPT is the foliage of the trees, No flow'rs the fields adorn; No more the balmy weftern breeze, Or fweetly fmiling morn! No more the bright Apollo fheds His warm prolific ray; But chearless, in his car pervades When rattling hail burfts from the sky, And dances o'er the plain; And roaring winds complain; When fable night, with ebon wand, Then, dearest Celia, deign to fmile, Thy miles the blackeit ftorms beguile, With rapture while I catch the found, O! be our love or lot the fame, Thro' every scene below; Then, whether fpring in colours gay Or whether winter's fullen waste, No anxious care hail fill my breast, Calmnly ferene thro' life I'll glide, SONG 1048. SUMMER, Written by Mr. BIST. NOW the lufcious fweets are flown, While the gentle zephyrs play, Now Pomona's fweets we taste, While the gentle zephyrs play, View the fertile hills and plains, Where the fmiling goddess reigns; Ceres, ever kind and true, Cultivates her crops for you; And the cheatful nightingale Warbies forth her tender tale. While the gentle zephyrs plav, Boafting fweets that equal May. SONG 1049. By Mr. R-GB-Y. FAREWEL all the joys which of late I poffeft, When with Sylvia's bright presence and fight I was bleft; How fwift fled the hours, undisturbed with care, No fears durft intrude, when along with my fair. Her cheeks were like rofes, her fhape like the pine, Her perfon and action were furely divine; How short-liv'd is beauty! how frail is our ftate! Ah, who can foresee the intentions of fate! In her the power to charm is feed, Still Britannia Her grateful voice fhall raife, In joyful strains, To Charlotte's praise. SONG 1051. Written by Mr. DAWRE. BACCHUS, ged of rofy wine, Fill to the brim the sprightly bowl, Mirth by this will ever smile, Love may beat his foft alarms, ANACREONTIC. Written by Mr. TOMLINS. I Crave not Gyge's boundless pow'r, Of pompous kings, fupremely great; Nor think I of the coming morrow. While chance permits, we'll drink and laugh, And feen the blithe fhepherd repair from his | In ev'ry charm there lies a dart, Or ken'd the rude husbandman fpeed to his toil, With heart that was happy, contented and free; O! how our young bofoms have ponder'd the while, And cull'd fweet reflection for Damon and me! And pity'd the wealthy, enrolled in ftate, That ne'er tafted joys from delights fuch as thefe ; Let them fmile in their fhackles, be proud to be great, We boafted our freedom, and cherish'd our cafe! The moffy green turf, with pied daifes crown'd, No honours to deck, nor no titles to grace, Or hypocrify's mask our actions to screen. Blooming health ftrung our nerves, and flush'd on our cheeks, It breath'd thro' each bush, and fang thro' the trees; While fickness, appall'd, from our prefence did creep, And clogg'd the high breaft with her loathfome disease, We purchas'd no pleasures, they flow'd free as air, From nature-deck'd beauties around us difplay'd; No Gigh from our bofoms, the boder of care, E'er pierc'd the dark grot, or e'er fullied the shade.. With true patriot feelings enraptur'd we glow'd, To fee (miling Ceres her vot'ries repay; And hail'd the beneficient hand that beftow'd, With ardour unknown to the free-thinking In ev'ry glance a snare. How they recal the youthful mind Fill the foft breaft with racks and fears, In the next let the gay wives of Windfor If love now bids beauty be kind, appear, Where the knight in the basket difcovers his SONG 1056. TO-MORROW. Sung at VAUXHALL. I Heed not, while life's on the wing, And will wafte not a thought on to-morrow. No moment of future I'll borrow; Look not for a friend in to-morrow. I'll catch ev'ry fwift-flying hour, I'll tafte ev'ry joy in my pow'r, And teach you to smile away forrow : If you've nectar to gladden your mind, Have nothing to do with to-morrow. SONG 1057. Sung in Cymon. I Laugh, and I fing, I am blithefome and free,, The rogue's little fting, It can never reach me: For with fal, la, ¡à, la ! ́ And ha, ha, ha, ha! It can never reach me. My fkin is fo tough, Or fo blinking is he, He can't pierce my buff, Or he miffes poor me. For with fal, la, la, la! And ha, ha, ha, ha! He miffes poor me. O, never be dull, By the fad willow tree: Of mirth be brimful, And run over like me. For with fal, la, la, ah! And ha, ha, ha, ha! Run over like me. SONG 1058. AH! Chloris, could I now but it As unconcern'd as when No happiness nor pain! Your charms in harmless childhood lay Age from no face takes more away My paffion with your beauty grew, Threw a new flaming dart: SONG 1959. LET poets tell of fhape and air,. Of faces beauteous, lovely, fair, There's nought on earth that can compare With hair the charms of Nelly. |