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All I of Venus ask, is this;
No more to let us join :
BY WILLIAM WALSH, ESQ.
F all the torments, all the cares,
With which our lives are curft;
Sure rivals are the worst !
Amictions easier grow ;
Companions of our woe,
Sylvia, for all the pangs you see
Are lab'ring in my breast;
Would you but flight the rest!
With them alone I'll cope ;
But not anothers hope.
BY MATHEW PRIOR ESQ.
(" THE AUTHOR SICK.")
Dear idol of my panting heart,
And I have liv'd; and we must part. While now I take
lait adieu, Heave thou no figh nor shed a tears Left yet my half-clos'd eye may view
On earth an object worth its care.
From jealousys tormenting strife
For ever be thy bosom freed: That nothing may disturb thy life,
Content l'haften to the dead.
Yet when some better-fated youth
Shall with his am'rous parly move thee; Reflect one moment on his truth
Who dying thus, persists to love thee,
LO V E
AND JE A LOUŞ Y.
BY MR. HENRY CAREY.
seem to my pain, And hate me
because I am true, Yet Phillis ! you love a false swain, Who has other nymphs in his view : D 4
Those lips which he touches in hafte,
To them I for ever could grow ;
Which he spans as beside him you go.
Which over his shoulders you lay,
My lips they could press it all day.
Were I like a monarch to reign,
Were graces my subjects to be,
To dwell in a cottage with thee,
disdain, If tears cannot cruelty drown, Oh let me not live in this pain ;
But give me my death in a frown!
WHAT fury does difturb my reft ?
What hell is this within my breast ?
I fee Celindas cruelty,
OF J E A LO U S Y.
BY MR. DR Y DE N*.
HAT state of life can be so blest,
As love that warms a lovers breaft?
* In the tragi-comedy of Love triumphant.
All other ills, though sharp they prove,
False in thy glass all objects are,
BY EDMUND WALLER ESQ.
AY, lovely dream, where could'st thou find
Shades to counterfeit that face? Colours of this glorious kind
Come not from any mortal place.