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Then, Molly, for what should we stay,
Till our best blood begins to run cold? Our youth we can have but to-day,
We may always find time to grow old.
BY MR. ROBERT LLOYD,
THOUGH winter its desolate train
HOUGH winter its desolate train
Of frost and of tempeft may bring, Yét Flora fteps forward again,
And nature rejoices in spring.
Though the sun in his glories decreaft,
Of his beams in the evening is shorn, Yet he rises with joy from the east,
And repairs them again in the morn.
But what can youths sunshine recall,
Or the blossoms of beauty restore? When its leaves are beginning to fall,
It dies, and is heard of no more.
The spring time of love then employ,
'Tis a lesson that's easy to learn, For Cupid's a vagrant, a boy,
And his seasons will never return.
BY MR. CHARLES CHURCHILL.
HEN youth, my Celia, 's in the prime,
With rapture seize the joyous time;
Dull winter comes with dreary frost,
fummer once is o'er,
The sun declines, and yields to night,
Then take the boon kind Heav'n bestows,
THE WIN T E R S WAL K.
BY DR. JOHNSON
EHOLD, my fair, wheree'er we rove,
What dreary prospects round us rise; The naked hill, the leafless grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning skies !
Not only through the wasted plain,
Stern Winter is thy force confefs’d; Still wider spreads thy horrid reign,
I feel thy power usurp my breast.
Enlivening Hope and fond Desire
Resign the heart to Spleen and Care ; Scarce frighted Love maintains her fire,
And Rapture saddens to despair.
In groundless hope, and causeless fear,
Unhappy man! behold thy doom;
The slave of sunshine and of gloom,
Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms,
With mental and corporeal ftrife,
And screen me from the ills of life.
TO A LADY ASKING HIM HOW LONG HE
WOULD LOVE HER.
BY SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE?
T is not, Celia, in our power
To say how long our love will last ;
May lose the joys we now do taste :
Then, since we mortal lovers are,
As not how long our love will last;
Each minute be with pleasure pass’d:
Fear not, though love and beauty fail,
My reason shall my heart direct; Your kindness now shall then prevail,
And passion turn into respect : Celia, at worst, you'll, in the end, But change a lover for a friend.
EAR Chloe, while thus, beyond measure,
You treat me with doubts and disdain, You rob all your youth of its pleasure,
And hoard up an old age of pain. Your maxim, that love is still founded
On charms that will quickly decay, 1 You'll find to be very ill grounded,
When once you its dictates obey. The passion from beauty first drawn,
Your kindness will vastly improve;
Fruition's the sunshine of love :
Should be clouded, that now are so gay,
We ne'er can forget it was day.
You have often regarded with wonder ;