SONG 1154.

YOUNG I am, and yet unfkill'd

How to make a lover yield; How to keep, and how to gain, When to love, and when to feign.

Take me, take me, fome of you,
While I yet am young and true;
Ere I can my foul difguife,
Heave my breafts, and roil my eyes.

Stay not till I learn the way
How to lye, and to betray;
He that has me first, is bieft,
For I may deceive the reft.

Could I find a blooming youth
Full of love, and full of truth,
Brifk, and of a janty mien,
I fhould long to be fifteen.

SONG 1155.

Written by Sir CHARLES SEDLEY. DAMON, if you will believe me,

'Tis not fighing on the plain, Song nor fonnet can relieve ye Faint attempts in love are vain.

Urge but home the fair occafion,
And be master of the field;
To a powerful, kind invasion,

'Twere a madness not to yield. Love gives out a large commiffion, Still indulgent to the brave;

But one fin of base omiftion

Never woman yet forgave.

Tho' fhe vows he'll ne'er permit ye,

Cries, you're rude and much to blame, And with tears implores your pity;

Be not merciful, for fhame.
When the fierce affault is over,
Chloris time enough will find,
This her cruel furious lover
Much more gentle, not fo kind.

SONG 1156.

EDWIN AND ITHELINDE.

ONE parting kifs, my Ethelinde!
Young Edwin fault'ring cried,

I hear thy father's hafty tread,
Nor longer must I bide.
To-morrow eve, in yonder wood,

Beneath the well-known tree,
Say, wilt thou meet thy own true love,
Whofe only joy's in thee?

She clafp'd the dear-beloved youth,
And figh'd, and dropt a tear;
Whate'er betide my only love,
I'll furely meet thee there.

They kifs, they part; a lift'ning page
To malice ever bent,

O'erheard their talk, and to his lord
Reveal'd their fond intent.

The baron's brow grew dark with frowns,
And rage difiain'd his cheek,
Heavens! hall a vaffal fhepherd dare
My daughter's love to feek!

But know, rafh boy, thy bold attempt
Full forely shalt thou rue;

Nor e'er again, ignoble maid,

Shalt thou thy lover view.

The dews of evening fast did fall,
And darkness spread apace,

When Ethelinde, with beating breaft,
Fiew to th' appointed place.

With eager eye fhe looks around,
No Edwin there was feen :

He was not wont to break his faith,
What can his abfence mean!

Her heart beat thick at ev'ry noise,

Each ruffling thro' the wood; And now the travers'd quick the ground, And now the lift'ning stood. Enliv'ning hope, and chilling fear, By turns her bosom share; And now the calls upon his name, Now weeps in fad despair. Meantime the day's laft glimm'rings fled; And, blackening all the fky, A hideous tempeft dreadful rofe, And thunders roll'd on high. Poor Ethelinde aghaft, difmay'd, Beholds with wild affright The threat'ning sky, the lonely wood, And horrors of the night.

Where art thou now, my Edwin dear?
Thy friendly aid I want:
Ah me! my boding heart foretels
That aid thou canft not grant.

Thus rack'd with pangs, and beat with storms,
Confus'd and lost the roves;

Now looks to heaven with earnest pray'r,
Now calls on him he loves.

At length a diftant taper's ray

Struck beaming on her fight;

Thro' brakes fhe guides her fainting steps
Towards the welcome light.

An aged hermit peaceful dwelt
In this fequefter'd wild,
Calm goodness fat upon his brow,
His words were soft and mild.

He ope'd his hofpitable door,
And much admiring view'd

The tender virgin's graceful form,
Dafh'd by the tempeft rude.
Welcome, fair maid, whoe'er thou art,
To this warm shelter'd cell;
Here reft fecure thy wearied feet,
Here peace and fafety dwell.

He faw the heart-wrung ftarting tear,
And gently fought to know,
With kindeft pity's foothing looks,

The story of her woe.

Scarce had he told her mournful tale,
When ftruck with dread they hear
Voices confus'd with dying groans,
The cell approaching near.

Help, father! help, they loudly cry,
A wretch here bleeds to death;
ome cordial balfam quickly give,
To ftay his parting breath.

All deadly pale they lay him down,

And gash'd with many a wound;
When, woeful fight! 'twas Edwin's felf
Lay bleeding on the ground.

With frantic grief poor Ethelinde
Befide his body falls;
Lift up thine eyes, my Edwin dear,
'Tis Ethelinde that calls.

That much-lov'd found recals his life,
He lifts his closing eyes,
Then feebly murmuring out her name,
He gafps, he faints, he dies!

Stupid awhile, in dumb defpair

She gaz'd on Edwin dead;

Dim grew her eyes, her lips turn'd pale,
And life's warm spirit fled.

SONG 1157.

Sung in Comus.

MORTALS, learn your lives to measure,
Not by length of time, but pleasure;
Now the hours invite, comply;
While you idly paufe, they fly:
Bleft, a nimble pace they keep,
But in torment, then they creep,

Mortals, learn your lives to meafure,
Not by length of time, but pleasure;
Soon your fpring must have a fail;
Lofing youth, is lofing all:
Then you'll ask, but none will give,
And may linger, but not live.

SONG 1158.

Written by Mr. EATON.

TELL me not I my time mispend, 'Tis time loft to reprove me; Purfue thou thine, I have my end,

So Chloris only prize me.

Tell me not other's flocks are full,
Mine poor, let them defpife thee
Who more abound in milk and wool,
So Chloris only prize me.

Tire others' eafier ears with thefe
Unappertaining stories;

He never feels the world's difeafe,

Who cares not for her glories.

For pity, thou that wiser art,

Whofe thoughts lie wide of mine, Let me alone with my own heart, And I'll ne'er envy thine.

Nor blame him, whoe'er blames my wit,
That feeks no higher prize,
Than in unenvy'd fhades to fit,
And fing of Chloris' eyes.

To you

SONG 1159.

Written by Mr. CONGREVE.

I Tell thee, Charmion, could I time retrieve,
And could again begin to love and live,
I should my earlieft off'ring give;
I know my eyes would lead my heart to you,
And I should all my oaths and vows renew ;
But, to be plain, I never would be true.

For by our weak and weary truth, I find,
Love hates to centre in a point affign'd,
But runs with joy the circle of the mind:
Then let us never chain what should be free,
But for relief of either fex agree;
Since women love to change, and fo do we

SONG 1160.

Written by Mr. ETHERIDGE.

YE happy fwains whofe hearts are free.
From love's imperial chain,
Take warning, and be taught by me
T'avoid th' inchanting pain;
Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks,
Fierce winds to bloffoms prove,
To carelefs feamen hidden rocks,
To human quiet love.

Fly the fair fex, if blifs you prize,

The fnake's beneath the flow'r;

Written by Dr. PERCY.

Nancy, wilt thou go with me, Nor figh to leave the flaunting town? Can filent glens have charms for thee, The lowly cot and ruffet gown? No longer dreft in fiken heen,

No longer deck'd with jewels rare, Say, canft thou quit each courtly scene, Where thou wert faireft of the fair? O Nancy! when thou'rt far away,

Wilt thou not caft a wifh behind? Say, canst thou face the parching ray, Nor shrink before the wintry wind? O can that foft and gentle mien

Extremes of hardship learn to bear, Nor, fad, regret each courtly scene, Where thou were fairest of the fair? O Nancy! canft thou love fo true,

Thro' perils keen with me to go; Or when thy fwain mishap fhall rue, To share with him the pang of woe? Say, fhould disease or pain befal,

Wilt thou affume the nurfe's care; Nor, wistful, thofe gay fcenes recal Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

VAIN are the charms of white and red, Which paint the blooming fair;

Give me the nymph whofe fnow is spread
Not o'er her face, but hair.

Of smoother cheeks the winning grace
With open force defies;

But in the wrinkles of her face
Cupid in ambush lies.

If naked eyes fet hearts on blaze,
And amorous warmth inspire;
Thro' glass, who darts her pointed rays,
Lights up a fiercer fire.

Nor rivals, nor the train of years,
My peace or blifs deftroy;
Alive, the gives no jealous fears,
And dead, the crowns my joy.