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SAFELY perhaps dull crowds admire;

But I, alas! am all on fire.
Like him who thought in childhood past
That dire disease which kill'd at laft,
I durst have sworn I lov'd before,
And fancy'd all the danger o'er;
Had felt the pangs of jealous pain,
And born the blasts of cold disdain ;
Then reap'd at length the mighty gains,
That full reward of all our pains !

But what was all such grief or joy,
That did my heedless years employ?
Mere dreams of feign'd fantastick pow'rs,
But the disease of idle hours;
Amusement, humour, affectation,
Compar'd with this sublimer passion,
Whose raptures, bright as those above,
Outshine the flames of zeal or love.

Yet think not, Fairest, what I sing,
Can from a love Platonick spring;
That formal softness (false and vain)
Not of the heart, but of the brain.
'Thou art indeed above all nature;
But I, a wretched human creature.
Wanting thy gentle gen'rous aid,
Of husband, rivals, friends afraid !


Amidst all this seraphick fire,
Am almost dying with desire,
With eager wishes, ardent thoughts,
Prone to commit love's wildelt faults !
And (as we are on Sundays told
The lusty patriarch did of old)
Would force a blessing from those charms,
And grasp an angel in my arms.


A DIALOGUE sung on the Stage between an elderly Shepherd, and a very young Nymph.


SHEP. RIGHT and blooming as the Spring,

Universal love inspiring!
All our swains thy praises fing,

Ever gazing and admiring.

Nym. Praises in so high a strain,

And by such a shepherd fung,
Are enough to make me vain,

Yet so harmless and so young.

SHEP. I should have despair'd among

Rivals that appear so gayly:
But your eyes have made me young,

By their smiling on me daily.

Nym. Idle boys admire us blindly,

Are inconstant, wild, and bold;
And your using me so kindly

Is a proof you are not old.

SHEP. With thy pleasing voice and fashion,

With thy humour and thy youth,
Chear my soul, and crown my passion:
Oh! reward my love and truth.

Nym. With thy careful arts to cover

That which fools will count a fault, Truest friend as well as lover,

Oh! deserve so kind a thought.


Happy we shall lie posering,

Folded in each other's arms,
Love and nature's chiefeft blessing

In the still increasing charms.

So the dearest joys of loving,

Which scarce Heav'n can go beyond,

Well be ev'ry day improving,
SH EP. You more fair, and I more fond.
N Y M. I more fair, and you more fond,

On one who died discovering her Kindness.

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OME vex their fouls with jealous pain,

While others figh for cold disdain :
Love's various llaves we daily see;
Yet happy all, compar'd with me.

of all mankind, I lov'd the best
A nymph so far above the rest,
That we outshin'd the blest above,
In beauty she, and I in love.

And therefore they who could not bear
To be outdone by mortals here,
Among themselves have plac'd her now,
And left me wretched here below.

All other fate I could have born,
And ev'n endur'd her very scorn;
But oh! thus all at once to find
That dread account ! both dead and kind!
What heart can hold ? If yet I live,
?Tis but to shew how much I grieve.

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