But endless bleffings crown the day I faw fair Efhams dale! And every bleffing find its way "Twas from Avonas banks the maid And every fhining glance difplay'd Soft as the wild-ducks tender young, Fresh as the bordering flowers, her bloom: all mild to view; Her eye The little halcyons azure plume Was never half fo blue. Her fhape was like the reed, so fleek, Her dimpled smile, her blushing cheek, Far in the winding vale retir'd, This peerless bud I found; And shadowing rocks, and woods conspir'd To fence her beauties round. That nature in fo lone a dell Gay lordlings fought her for their bride, Struck with her charms and gentle truth, To her alone I gave my youth, And when this vow fhall faithlefs prove, Or I thofe charms forego; The stream that faw our tender love, SONG SONG XXVII. BY SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. NOT OT, Celia, that I jufter am, For I would change each hour like them, Were it my intereft. But I'm fo fix'd alone to thee By every thought I have, That fhould you now my heart fet free, "Twould be again your slave. All that in woman is ador'd Not to my virtue, but thy power, When change itself can give no more, N SONG XXVIII. BY DR. JOHNSON. OT the foft fighs of vernal gales, The fragrance of the flowery vales, The murmurs of the crystal rill, Not all their charms, though all unite, Not all the gems on Indias fhore, Yet Natures charms allure my eyes, In lovely Stella all combine, And, lovely Stella! thou art mine. SONG XXIX. DELIA. A PASTORAL. BY MR. JOHN CUNNINGHAM. TH HE gentle fwan with graceful pride, And failing down the filver tide, Divides the whispering waves: The filver tide, that wandering flows, Sweet to the bird must be! But not fo fweet-blithe Cupid knows, A parent A parent bird, in plaintive mood, And still the pendent nest she view'd, But not fo dear (the thousandth part!) Were natives of the dale; Scarce pluck', and in a garland bound, If lucklefs torn from thee; For what the root is to the rose, My Delia is to me. Two doves I found, like new-fall'n fnow, So white the beauteous pair! The birds to Delia I'll beftow, They're like her bosom fair! When, in their chafte connubial love, My fecret wish she'll fee; May Delia fhare with me. SONG |