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Tho' battle calls me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
Tho' cannons roar, yet free from harms

WILLIAM fhall to his dear return :
Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.

The boatswain gives the dreadful word,
The fails their swelling bosoms spread ;
No longer must she stay on board,

They kiss’d; she figh’d; he hung his head : Her less’ning boat unwilling rows to land; Adieu she cries, and waved her lily hand.



APHNIS stood pensive in the shade,

With arms across, and head reclin'd;
Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,

And fighs reliev'd his love-fick mind :
His tuneful pipe all broken lay,
Looks, fighs, and actions seem'd to say,
My Chloe is unkind.


Why ring the woods with warbling throats ?

Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains ; I faintly hear in your sweet notes,

My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains : Yet why should you your song forbear? Your mates delight your song to hear,

But Chloe mine disdains.

As thus he melancholy itood,

Dejected as the lonely dove, Sweet founds broke gently through the wood.

I feel the found; my heart-strings move : 'Twas not the nightingale that sung ; No, 'tis my Chloe's sweeter tongue,

Hark, hark, what says my love !

How foolish is the nymph, she cries,

Who triles with her lover's pain ! Nature ftill speaks in woman's eyes,

Our artful lips were made to feign. ODAPHNIS, DAPHNIS, 'twas my pride, 'Twas not my heart thy love deny'd,

Come back, dear youth, again,

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As t'other day my hand he seiz'd,

My blood with thrilling motion flew Sudden I put on looks displeas'd,

And hafty from his hold withdrew. 'Twas fear alone, thou fimple fwain, Then hadît thou preft my hand again,

My heart had yielded too !

'Tis true, 'thy tuneful reed I blam’d,

That swell'd thy lip and rosy cheek ;
Think not thy skill in song defam'd,

That lip Mould other pleasures seek :
Much, much thy music I approve;
Yet break thy pipe, for more I love,

Much more to hear thee speak.

My heart forebodes that I'm betray'd,

DAPHNIS I fear is ever gone ;
Last night with Dell'A's dog he play'd,

Love by such trifles first comes on.
Now, now, dear shepherd, come away,
My tongue would now my heart obey,

Ah CHLOE, thou art won!


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The youth stepp'd forth with hasty pace,

And found where wishing Chloe lay;
Shame sudden lighten'd in her face,

Confus'd, she knew not what to say,
At last in broken words, fhe cry'd,
To-morrow you in vain had try'd,

But I am loft. to-day!


DESPAIRING beide a clear iream,

ESPAIRING beside a clear stream,

laid, And whilít a false nymph was his theme,

A willow supported his head ; The wind that blew over the plain

To his fighs with a figh did reply, And the brook in return to his pain

Ran mournfully murmuring by.

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Alas! filly swain that I was !

Thus fadly complaining he cried ; When first I beheld that fair face,

'Twere better by far I had died. She talk’d, and I blest the dear tongue,

When she smil'd 'twas a pleasure too great; I liften'd, and cry'd, wlten fhe fung,

Was nightingale ever so sweet?

How foolish was I to believe

She would doat on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve

To forsake the fine folks of the town; To think that a beauty fo gay,

So kind and so constant would prove, To go

clad like our maidens in gray, And live in a cottage on love.

What tho' I have skill to complain,

Tho' the Muses my temples have crown'd? What tho’ when they hear my soft ftrain,

The virgins fit weeping around? Ah Colin thy hopes are in vain,

Thy pipe and thy laurel refign, Thy fair one inclines to a swain Whose music is sweeter than thine.


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