How can I fee you and not love,

While you as opening Eaft are fair? While cold as Northern blafts you prove, How can I love and not despair?

The wretch in double fetters bound
Your potent mercy may release ;
Soon, if my love but once were crown'd,
Fair prophetess! my grief would ceafe.

SONG IX.

THE SNOW-BAL L.

FROM PETRONIUS AFRANIUS.

BY SOAME JENYNS ESQ

WHIT

HITE as her hand, fair Julia threw
A ball of filver fnow;

The frozen globe fir'd as it flew,

My bofom felt it glow.

Strange pow'r of love! whofe great command

Can thus a fnow-ball arm;

When fent, fair Julia, from thy hand,

Ev'n ice itself can warm.

How should we then fecure our hearts;
Loves pow'r we all must feel;
Who thus can, by ftrange magic arts,
In ice his flame conceal.

"Tis thou alone, fair Julia, know,
Canft quench my fierce defire;
But not with water, ice, or snow,
But with an equal fire.

SONG X.

BY SIR JOHN VANBRUGH*,

I

Smile at Love, and all his arts,

The charming Cynthia cried;

Take heed, for Love has piercing darts,
A wounded swain replied:

Once free, and blest, as you are now,

I trifled with his charms,

I pointed at his little bow,

And fported with his arms:

'Till urg'd too far-Revenge, he cries!
A fatal fhaft he drew,

Which took its paffage through your eyes,
And to my heart it flew :

In the comedy of The Relapse.

To

To tear it thence I tried in vain,
To ftrive, I quickly found,
Was only to increase the pain,
And mortify the wound;

Too well, alas! I fear, you know

What anguish I endure,

Since what your eyes alone could do,
Your heart alone can cure.

SONG XI.

BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER.

W

WHILST on thofe lovely looks I gaze,
To fee a wretch pursuing,

In raptures of a blest amaze,

His pleafing happy ruin;

'Tis not for pity that I move;

His fate is too afpiring,

Whofe heart, broke with a load of love,
Dies wishing and admiring.

But if this murder you'd forego,
Your flave from death removing,
Let me your art of charming know,
Or learn you mine of loving.

But

But whether life or death betide,
In love 'tis equal measure;
The victor lives with empty pride,
The vanquish'd die with pleasure.

I

SONG XII.

lik'd, but never lov'd, before

I faw thy charming face;

Now ev'ry feature I adore,

And dote on ev'ry grace.

She ne'er fhall know the kind defire
Which her cold look denies,
Unless my heart, that's all on fire,
Should fparkle through my eyes.

Then if no gentle glance return

A filent leave to speak,

My heart, which would for ever burn,
Muft figh, alas! and break.

0.

SONG

SONG XIII.

BY M R. ADDISON.

MY

heart;

Y love was fickle once and changing,
Nor e'er would fettle in my
From beauty ftill to beauty ranging,
In every face I found a dart.

'Twas first a charming fhape enflav'd me,
An eye then gave the fatal ftroke:
Till by her wit Corinna fav'd me,
And all my former fetters broke.

But now a long and lasting anguish
For Belvidera I endure;

Hourly I figh, and hourly languish,
Nor hope to find the wonted cure.

For here the falfe inconftant lover,
After a thoufand beauties fhown,
Does new furprifing charms difcover,
And finds variety in one.

SONG XIV.

Never faw a face till now,

That could my fancy move;

I lik'd, and ventur'd many a vow,

But durft not think of love:

Till