Gentle murmurs, fweet complaining, Every fwain shall pay his duty, Those shall be renown'd for love. SONG II. TO CUPID ON VALENTINES DAY. Co BY MR. PARRAT. COME thou rofy-dimpled boy, Hafte to Sylvia, hafte away, Let the nymphs with many a flow'r G 4 Thither 19 Thither lead the lovely fair, Only while we love we live, Rapture more than folly knows, Afk me not of womans arts, Broken vows, and faithless hearts, Tell the wretch that pines and grieves, All delights the heart can know, More than folly can bestow, Wealth of worlds, and crowns of kings, A H, how fweet it is to love! Ah, how gay is young defire! Sighs, which are from loyers blown, Cure, like trickling balm, their smart; * In the tragedy of Tyrannick Love, Lovers, Lovers, when they lose their breath, Love and time with reverence use, Which, in youth, fincere they fend, Love, like fpring-tides full and high, Till they quite shrink in again; If a flow in age appear, 'Tis but rain, and runs not clear. L SONG V. WHAT IS LOVE? OVE's no irregular defire, No fudden start of raging pain, Not found in the fad fonneteer, That fings of darts, defpair, and chains, And by whofe difmal verfe, 'tis clear, He wants not heart alone, but brains. Nor Nor does it center in the beau, Who fighs by rule, by order dies, Whofe all confifts in outward show, And want of wit by drefs fupplies. No, Love is fomething fo divine, SONG VI. BY MR. HENRY CAREY*, L OVE's a gentle gen'rous paffion, When with mutual inclination What are titles, pomp or riches, Lawlefs paffions bring vexation, But a chafte and conftant love, Is a glorious emulation Of the blissful state above. In The Honest Yorkshireman, a ballad farce. SONG |