No-let me waste the frolic May
In wanton joys and wild excess,
In revel sport and laughter gay
And mirth, and rosy chearfulness;
Woman, the soul of all delights,
And wine, the aid of love, be near;
All charms me that to joy incites,
And every she that's kind is fair.

TELL

[SIR JOHN EATON.]

ELL me not I my time mispend,

"Tis time lost to reprove me; Pursue thou thine, I have my end, So Chloris only love me.

Tell me not others' flocks are full,
Mine poor, let them despise me,
Who more abound in milk and wool,
So Chloris only prize me.

Tire others' easier ears with these
Unappertaining stories;

He never feels the world's disease

Who cares not for her glories.

YOUNG I am, and yet unskill'd
How to make a lover yield;
How to keep, and how to gain,
When to love, and when to feign.

Take me, take me some of you
While I yet am young and true;
Ere I can my soul disguise,

Heave my breasts, and roll my eyes.

Stay not till I learn the way
How to lie and to betray;
He that has me first, is blest,
For I may deceive the rest.

Could I find a blooming youth
Full of love, and full of truth,
Brisk, and of a janty mien,
I should long to be fifteen.

SAY
AY not, Olinda, I despise

The faded glories of your face, The languish'd vigour of your eyes, And that once only-lov'd embrace.

In vain, in vain, my constant heart
On aged wings, attempts to meet,
With wonted speed, those flames you dart,
It faints, and flutters at your feet,

I blame not your decay of power,

You may have pointed beauties still, Tho' me, alas! they wound no more; You cannot hurt what cannot feel.

On youthful climes your beams display
There you may cherish with your heat,
And rise the sun to gild their day,
To me, benighted, when you set.

DEAR 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,
You will find to be very ill-grounded
When once you its dictates obey.

The passion from beauty first drawn
Your kindness will vastly improve;
Soft looks and gay smiles are the dawn,
Fruition's the sunshine of love :

And though the bright beams of your eyes,
Should be clouded, that now are so gay,
And darkness obscure all the skies,
We ne'er can forget it was day.

Old Darby with Joan by his side

You oft have regarded with wonder;

He is dropsical, she is sore-ey'd,

Yet they're ever uneasy asunder ; Together they totter about

And sit in the sun at the door,

And at night when old Darby's pot's out, His Joan will not smoke a whiff more.

No beauty or wit they possess

Their several failings to smother, Then what are the charms, can you guess, That make them so fond of each other? "Tis the pleasing remembrance of youth, The endearments that love did bestow, The thoughts of past pleasure and truth, The best of all blessings below,

These traces for ever will last

Which sickness nor time can remove;
For when youth and beauty are past,
And age brings the winter of love,
A friendship insensibly grows,

By reviews of such raptures as these, And the current of fondness still flows Which decrepid old age cannot freeze.

[GILBERT COOPER.]

AWAY, let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move thy fear,
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy care.

What tho' no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood, We'll shine in more substantial honours, And to be noble we'll be good.

What tho' from fortune's lavish bounty No mighty treasures we possess, We'll find within our pittance plenty, And be content without excess.