Go, daughter of the dewy morning,
With Alve's blush the fields adorning.

Go, lovely rose, what dost thou here?
Lingering away thy short-lived year,
Vainly shining, idly blooming,
Thy unenjoyed sweets consuming,

Vain is thy radiant Garlies hue,
No hand to pull, no eye to view;
What are thy charms no heart desiring?
What profits beauty none admiring?

Go, Yarrow flower, to Yarrow maid,
And on her panting bosom laid,
There all thy native form confessing,

The charm of beauty is possessing.

Come, Yarrow maid, from Yarrow field, What pleasure can the desart yield? Come to my breast, O, all excelling,

Is there on earth so kind a dwelling?

Come, my dear maid, thou prettiest maid, That ever smiled in Yarrow shade;

151

Come, sister of the dewy morning,
With Alve's blush the dance adorning.

Come, lovely maid, love calls thee here,
Linger no more thy fleeting year,
Vainly shining, idly blooming,
Thy unenjoyed sweets consuming.

Vain is thy radiant Garlies hue,
No hand to press, no eye to view;
What are thy charms no heart desiring?
What profits beauty none admiring?

Come, Yarrow maid, with Yarrow rose,

Thy maiden graces all disclose;
Come, blest by all, to all a blessing,
The charm of beauty is possessing,

W1

EPIGRAM.

WRITTEN IN A LADY'S TABLETS.

BY WALSH.

ITH what strange raptures would my soul be blest,

Were but her book an emblem of her breast!

As I from that all former marks efface,
And, uncontroll'd, put new one's in their place;
So might I chace all others from her heart,
And my own image in their stead impart.
But, ah! how short the bliss would prove, if he
Who seized it next, might do the same by me!

EPIGRAM.

BY LORD DORSET.

DORINDA's sparkling wit and eyes,

United, cast too fierce a light,

Which blazes high, but quickly dies,

Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight.

Love is a calmer, gentler joy,

Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace;

Her Cupid is a blackguard boy,

That runs his link full in you face.

THE INCONSTANT.

BY LORD ROCHESTER.

My dear mistress has a heart

Soft as those kind looks she gave me,

When with love's resistless art

And her eyes she did enslave me:

But her constancy's so weak,

She's so wild and apt to wander,

That my jealous heart would break,
Should we live one day asunder.

Melting joys about her move,
Killing pleasures, wounding blisses:

She can dress her eyes in love,

And her lips can warm with kisses:

Angels listen while she speaks,

She's my delight, all mankind's wonder; But my jealous heart would break,

Should we live one day asunder.

CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS.

FROM Cephalus' unhappy story know
What dire distress from jealousy may flow:
Hear the forlorn distracted husband tell

How by his hands his much-loved Procris fell.

"Happy awhile, thrice happy was my life, "Blest in a beautiful and virtuous wife. "Love join'd us first, and love made life so sweet, "We praised the gods, that 'twas our lot to meet. "Our breasts glow'd gently with a mutual flame, "The same were our desires, our fears the same. "Whate'er one did, the other would approve, "For one our liking was, as one our love.