Ah! why must words my

Alexis shunn'd his fellow swains

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd

All my past life is mine no more

flame reveal

110

67

58

203

At Cynthia's feet I pray'd, I wept

238

Away, let nought to love displeasing
Away with these self-loving lads

159

264

Bid me when forty winters more
Blest as th' immortal gods is he

101

152

Damon, if you will believe me
Daphnis stood pensive in the shade

Dear Chloe what means this disdain

197

60

314

Fly, thoughtless youth, th' enchantress fly
For ever, Fortune, will thou prove

For tenderness fram'd in life's early day

From all uneasy passions free

From anxious zeal and factious strife

From place to place forlorn I go

Gentle air, thou breath of lovers
Gently touch the warbling lyre
Good madam, when ladies are willing
Good morrow to the day so fair
Go plaintive sounds, and to the fair
Go tell Amynta, gentle swain

Had I a heart for falsehood framed
Hail to the myrtle shade

Hard is the fate of him who loves

134

155

309

133

320

143

226

326

201

305

129

104

310

124

306

Hark, hark, 'tis a voice from the tomb

295

How blest has my time been, what days have I known 274

I prithee send me back my heart
I smile at love and all his arts

If all the world and love were young
If ever thou didst joy to bind
If the quick spirit of your eye
If truth can fix the wavering heart
If wine and music have the

I'll

power

range around the shady bow'rs

In a cottage embosom'd within a deep shade
In Chloris all soft charms agree

In vain, dear Chloe, you suggest

I tell thee, Charmion, could I time retrieve
It is not, Celia, in our power

241 196

191

It was a friar of order gray

37

Late when love I seem'd to slight

Let not love on me bestow

Let the ambitious favor find
Love and folly were at play
Love's a dream of mighty treasure
Love's but the frailty of the mind

Mistaken fair, lay Sherlock by
Mortals learn your lives to measure

My banks they are furnish'd with bees
My days have been so wonderous free
My dear mistress has a heart

My love was fickle once and changing

My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook
My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine
My time, O ye Muses! was happily spent

Not, Celia, that I juster am

Now see my goddess, earthly born

Oh had my love ne'er smil'd on me

Oh how vain is every blessing
Oh turn away those cruel eyes
On a bank beside a willow
*On Belvidera's bosom lying

A

190

121

161

337

80

282

49

134

311

351

214

138

18