SONG XXX.

BY MATHEW PRIOR ESQ

F wine and mufic have the pow'r

I

Let Phoebus every firing explore,

And Bacchus fill the fpritely bowl.
Let them their friendly aid employ

To make my Chloes abfence light,
And feek for pleasure, to destroy

The forrows of this live long night.

But the to-morrow will return;
Venus be thou to-morrow great,
Thy myrtles ftrew, thy odours burn,
And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state.
Kind goddefs, to no other pow'rs

Let us to-morrows bleffings own;
The darling loves fhall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.

SONG XXXI.

AN IMITATION OF MARTIAL.

BY SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS.?

OME, Chloe, and give me fweet kiffes,

COM

gave:

For fweeter fure girl never
But why in the midst of my bliffes
Do you ask me how many I'd have?

I'm not to be ftinted in pleasure,

Then prithee my charmer be kind, For whilft I love thee above measure To numbers I'll ne'er be confin'd.

Count the bees that on Hybla are playing,
Count the flow'rs that enamel its fields,
Count the flocks that on Tempe are straying,
Or the grain that rich Sicily yields.
Go number the ftars in the heaven,
Count how many fands on the shore,
When fo many kiffes you've given
I still shall be craving for more.

To a heart full of love let me hold thee,
To a heart which, dear Chloe, is thine;
With my arms I'll for ever infold thee,

And twist round thy neck like a vine.
What joy can be greater than this is?
My life on thy lips shall be spent ;

But the wretch that can number his kiffes
With few will be ever content.

W

SONG XXXII.

HEN charming Teraminta fings,
Each new air new passion brings;

Now I refolve, and now I fear;

Now I triumph, now despair;

Frolic

Frolic now, now faint I grow ;
Now I freeze, and now I glow.
The panting Zephyrs round her play,
And trembling on her lips would stay;

Now would liften, now would kiss,
Trembling with divided bliss;

"Till, by her breath repuls'd, they fly,
And in low pleasing murmurs die.
Nor do I ask that she would give
By fome new note, the pow'r to live;
I would, expiring with the found,
Die on the lips that gave the wound.

SONG XXXIII.

THE FEMALE PHAETON.

BY MATHEW PRIOR ESQ. ?

HUS Kitty beautiful and young,
*

THU

And wild as colt untam'd;

Bespoke the Fair from whom she sprung,

With little rage inflam'd.

Inflam'd with rage at fad restraint,

Which wife mamma ordain'd;
And forely vex'd to play the faint,
Whilft wit and beauty reign'd.

*Lady Catharine Hyde, afterwards duchefs of Queensberry.

Shall

Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd
With Abigails forsaken ?
Kitty's for other things defign'd,
Or I am much mistaken.
Muft lady Jenny † frisk about,
And vifit with her coufins ?

At balls must she make all the rout
And bring home hearts by dozens ?

What has she better, pray, than I?
What hidden charms to boast ?
That all mankind for her should die,
Whilft I am scarce a toast.
Dearest mamma, for once let me
Unchain'd my fortune try;

I'll have my earl as well as she,
Or know the reason why.

I'll foon with Jennys pride quit fcore,
Make all her lovers fall;

They'll grieve I was not loos'd before,
She, I was loos'd at all.

Fondness prevail'd, mamma gave way;

Kitty, at hearts defire,

Obtain'd the chariot for a day,

And fet the world on fire!

Lady Jane Hyde, then countefs of Effex, who died in France 1722.

SONG

SONG XXXIV.

BY MRS. PILKINGTON.

TELLA and Flavia, ev'ry hour,
Unnumber'd hearts surprise;

In Stellas foul lies all her pow'r,
And Flavias in her eyes.

More boundlefs Flavias conquefts are,

And Stellas more confin'd;
All can difcern a face that's fair,

But few a lovely mind.

Stella, like Britains monarch, reigns

O'er cultivated lands;

Like Eastern tyrants, Flavia deigns

To rule o'er barren fands.

Then boaft, fair Flavia, boaft your face,

Your beautys only ftore;

Your charms will ev'ry day decrease,
Each day gives Stella more.

SONG