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I watch'd the dawn of every grace,
While yet 'twas safe to gaze ;
The peace of future days.
But now despotic o'er the plains
And kneeling crouds adore;
And I must hope no more.
Thus to the rising god of day
And bless the spreading fire;
They ficken and expire.
HEN first I saw thee graceful move,
Ah me! what meant my throbbing breast? Say, soft confusion, art thou love?
If love thou art, then farewell rest!
Since doom'd I am to love thee, fair,
Though hopeless of a warm return, Yet kill me not with cold despair; But let me live, and let me burn.
With gentle smiles affwage the pain
Those gentle (miles did first create : And, though you cannot love again,
In pity, oh! forbear to hate.
Τ Η Ε Ν C Η Α Ν Τ Μ Ε Ν Τ.
O! would your pity give my heart
One corner of your breast; 'Twould learn of yours the winning art,
And quickly steal the rest.
BY VISCOUNT MOLESWORTH,
LMERIAS face, her shape, her air,
With charms resistless wound the heart; In vain you for defence prepare,
When from her eyes Love throws his dart.
So strong, fo swift the arrow fies,
Such sure destruction flying makes ; The bold opposer quickly dies!
The fugitive it overtakes!
Nor stratagem, nor force avails,
No feign'd submission sets you free; One look o'er all your art prevails,
There's no way safe but not to see!
For such the magic of her arms,
And wounding she does so allure ; The unexperienc'd court their harms;
The wounded never wish a curę.
gaze not on those eyes! forbear
That soft inchanting voice to hear :
Fly, if thy freedom thou’dft maintain.
Alas! I feel, th' advice is vain!
BY A ARON HILL ESQ.
H! forbear to bid me sight her,
Soul and senses take her part; Could my death itself delight her, Life should leap, to leave my
heart. Strong, though soft, a lovers chain, Charm'd with woe, and pleas'd with pain.
Though the tender flame were dying,
Love would light it, at her eyes;
Through my ear, my soul surprise.
HILE from my looks, fair nymph, you guess
The secret passions of my mind, My heavy eyes, you say, confess
A heart to love and grief inclin'd.
There needs, alas! but little art
To have this fatal secret found; With the same ease you threw the dart
"Tis certain you may show the wound.
How can I see you and not love,
While you as opening East are fair? While cold as Northern blasts you prove,
How can I love and not defpair ?
The wretch in double fetters bound
Your potent mercy may release ;
Fair prophetess! my grief would cease.
SON G IX.
Τ Η Ε
SNOW - B A L L.
FROM PETRONIUS AFRANIUS.
BY SO AME JEN YNS ES le
HITE as her hand, fair Julia threw
A ball of silver snow; The frozen globe fir'd as it few,
My bosom felt it glow.
Strange pow'r of love! whose great command
Can thus a snow-ball arm;
Ev’n ice itself can warm.