Giver Captive was His Eyes their best Attracts put on Designing some should be undone For he could at his pleasure move The Nymphs he lik'd to fall in Love Yet so he order'd every Glance That still they seem'd but Wounds of Chance He well cou'd feign an Innocence And taught his Silence Eloquence Each Smile he us'd had got the force To Conquer more than soft Discourse Which when it serv'd his Ends he 'd use And subtilly thro' a heart infuse His Wit was such it cou'd controul The Resolutions of a Soul That a Religious Vow had made By Love it nere wou'd be betra'd For when he spoke he well cou'd prove Their Errors who dispute with Love With all these Charms he did Address Himself to every Shepherdess Until the Bag-pipes which did play Began the Bus'ness of the day And in the taking forth to Dance The Lovely Swain became my Chance To whom much Passion he did Vow And much his Eyes and Sighs did show And both imploy'd with so much Art I strove in vain to guard my Heart And ere the Night our Revels crost I was intirely won and lost Let me advise thee Amoret Fly from the Baits that he has set In every grace which will betray All Beauties that but look that way But thou hast Charms that will secure A Captive in this Conquerour Our Cabal COme my fair Cloris come away Hast thou forgot 't is Holyday And lovely Silvia too make haste The Sun is up the day does waste Do'st thou not hear the Musick loud Mix'd with the murmur of the Crowd How can thy active Feet be still And hear the Bagpipes chearful Trill Mr. V. U. Urania's drest as fine and gay As if she meant t' out-shine the day Or certain that no Victories Were to be gain'd but by her Eyes Her Garment's white her Garniture The springing Beauties of the Year Which are in such nice Order plac'd That Nature is by Art disgrac'd Her natural Curling Ebon Hair Does loosly wanton in the Air. Mr. G. V. With her the young Alexis came Whose Eyes dare only speak his Flame Charming he is as fair can be Charming without Effeminacy Only his Eyes are languishing Caus'd by the Pain he feels within Yet thou wilt say that Languishment Is a peculiar Ornament Deck'd up he is with Pride and Care All Rich and Gay to please his Fair The price of Flocks h' has made a Prey To th' Usual Vanity of this day My dear Brother J. C. After them Damon Piping came Who laughs at Cupid and his Flame Swears if the Boy should him approach He 'd burn his Wings with his own Torch But he 's too young for Love t' invade Though for him languish many a Maid His lovely Ayr his chearful Face Adorn'd with many a Youthful Grace Beget more Sighs then if with Arts He should design to conquer Hearts The Swains as well as Nymphs submit To 's Charms of Beauty and of VVit He 'll sing he 'll dance he 'll pipe and play And wanton out a Summers day And wheresoever Damon be He 's still the Soul o' th' Companie My dear Amoret Mris. B. Next Amoret the true Delight Of all that do approach her sight The Sun in all its Course ne'er met Ought Fair or Sweet like Amoret Alone she came her Eyes declin'd In which you 'l read her troubled Mind Yes Silvia for she 'l not deny She loves as well as thou and I. 'T is Philocles that Proud Ingrate That pays her Passion back with Hate VVhilst she does all but him despise And clouds the lustre of her Eyes But once to her he did address And dying Passion too express But soon the Amorous Heat was laid He soon forgot the Vows he 'd made VVhilst she in every Silent Grove Bewails her easie Faith and Love Numbers of Swains do her adore But she has vow'd to love no more Mr. J. B. Next Jolly Thirsis came along VVith many Beauties in a Throng Mr. Je. B. VVith whom the young Amyntas came The Author of my Sighs and Flame For I 'll confess that Truth to you VVhich every Look of mine can show Ah how unlike the rest he appears VVith Majesty above his years His Eyes so much of Sweetness dress Such Wit such Vigour too express That 't wou'd a wonder be to say I 've seen the Youth and brought my Heart away Ah Cloris Thou that never wert In danger yet to lose a Heart Guard it severely now for he Will startle all thy Constancy For if by chance thou do'st escape Unwounded by his Lovely Shape Tempt not thy Ruine lest his Eyes Joyn with his Tongue to win the Prize Such Softness in his Language dwells And Tales of Love so well he tells Should'st thou attend their Harmony thou 'dst be Undone as well as I For sure no Nymph was ever free That could Amyntas hear and see Mr. N. R. V. With him the lovely Philocless His-Beauty heightned by his Dress If any thing can add a Grace To such a Shape and such a Face Whose Natural Ornaments impart Enough without the help of Art His Shoulders cover'd with a Hair The Sun-Beams are not half so fair Of which the Virgins Bracelets make And wear for Philocless's sake His Beauty such that one would swear His Face did never take the Air. On 's Cheeks the blushing Roses show The rest like whitest Daisies grow His Lips no Berries of the Field Nor Cherries such a Red do yield His Eyes all Love Soft'ning Smile And when he speaks he sighs the while His Bashful Grace with Blushes too Gains more then Confidence can do With all these Charms he does invade The Heart which when he has betray'd He slights the Trophies he has won And weeps for those he has Undone As if he never did intend His Charms for so severe an End And all poor Amoret can Gain Is pitty from the Lovely Swain And if Inconstancy can seem Agreeable 't is so in him And when he meets Reproach for it He does excuse it with his Wit Mr. E. B. and Mrs. F M. Next hand in hand the smilling Pair Martillo and the Lovely Fair A Bright-Ey'd Phillis who they say Ne'er knew what Love was till to day Long has the Gen'rous Youth in vain Implor'd some Pity for his Pain Early abroad he would be seen To wait her coming on the Green To be the first that t' her should pay The Tribute of the New-born Day Presents her Bracelets with their Names And Hooks carv'd out with Hearts and Flames And when a stragling Lamb he saw And she not by to give it Law The pretty Fugitive he 'd deck With Wreaths of Flowers around its Neck And gave her ev'ry mark of Love Before he could her Pity move But now the Youth no more appears Clouded with Jealousies and Fears Nor yet dares Phillis softer Brow Wear Unconcern or Coldness now But makes him just and kind Returns And as He does so now She burns Mr. J. H. Next
all its humble feebles know Where wert thou oh malicious spright When shining Honour did invite When interest call'd then thou wert shy Nor to my aid one kind propension brought Nor wou'd'st inspire one tender thought When Princes at my feet did lye When thou coud'st mix ambition with my joy Then peevish Phantôm thou wer 't nice and coy Not Beauty cou'd invite thee then Nor all the Arts of lavish Men Not all the powerful Rhetorick of the Tongue Not sacred Wit cou'd charm thee on Not the soft play that lovers make Nor sigh cou'd fan thee to a fire Not pleading tears nor vows cou'd thee awake Or warm the unform'd somthing to desire Oft I 've conjur'd thee to appear By youth by love by all their powrs Have searcht and sought thee every where In silent Groves in lonely bowrs On Flowry beds where lovers wishing lye In sheltering Woods where sighing maids To their assigning Shepherds hye And hide their blushes in the gloom of shades Yet there even there thô youth assail'd Where Beauty prostrate lay and fortune woo'd My heart insensible to neither bow'd Thy lucky aid was wanting to prevail In courts I sought thee then thy proper sphear But thou in crowds we'rt stifl'd there Int'rest did all the loving business do Invites the youths and wins the Virgins too Or if by chance some heart thy empire own Ah power ingrate the slave must be undone Tell me thou nimble fire that dost dilate Thy mighty force thrô every part What God or Human power did thee create In my till now unfacil heart Art thou some welcome plague sent from above In this dear form this kind disguise Or the false offspring of mistaken love Begot by some soft thought that faintly strove With the bright peircing Beautys of Lysanders Eyes Yes yes tormenter I have found thee now And found to whom thou dost thy being owe 'T is thou the blushes dost impart For thee this languishment I wear 'T is thou that tremblest in my heart When the dear Shepherd do's appear I faint I dye with pleasing pain My words intruding sighing break When e're I touch the charming swain When e're I gaze when e're I speak Thy conscious fire is mingl'd with my love As in the sanctify'd abodes Misguided worshippers approve The mixing Idol with their Gods In vain alas in vain I strive With errors which my soul do please and vex For superstition will survive Purer Religion to perplex Oh! tell me you Philosophers in love That can its burning feaverish fits controul By what strange Arts you cure the soul And the fierce Calenture remove Tell me yee fair ones that exchange desire How t is you hid the kindling fire Oh! wou'd you but confess the truth It is not real virtue makes you nice But when you do resist the pressing youth 'T is want of dear desire to thaw the Virgin Ice And while your young adorers lye All languishing and hopeless at your feet Raising new Trophies to your chastity Oh tell me how you do remain discreet How you suppress the rising sighs And the soft yeilding soul that wishes in your Eyes While to th' admiring crow'd you nice are found Some dear some secret youth that gives the wound Informs you all your virtu's but a cheat And Honour but a false disguise Your modesty a necessary bait To gain the dull repute of being wise Deceive the foolish World deceive it on And veil your passions in your pride But now I 've found your feebles by my own From me the needful fraud you cannot hide Thô t is a mighty power must move The soul to this degree of love And thô with virtue I the World perplex Lysander finds the weekness of my sex So Helen while from Theseus arms she fled To charming Paris yeilds her heart and Bed SONG By a person of Quality AH cruel Beauty cou'd you prove More tender or less fair You neither wou'd provoke my Love Nor cause me to despair But your dissembling charming Eyes My easy hope beguiles And thô a Rock beneath'em lys The tempting surface smiles To what your sex on ours impose My humble Love comply'd And when my secret I disclos'd Thought modesty deny'd Yes sure said I her yeilding heart Pertakes of my desire But nicer Honour feigns this part To hide the rising fire Against your mind my sute I told And slighted vows renew'd Yet you insensibly were cold And I but vainly woo'd Then for return a scorn prepare Or lay that frown aside Affected coyness I can bear But hate insulting Pride SONG By a person of Quality UNder the Beams of Celia's Eyes See the fair Shepherd panting lys For whom all other Beauty dys Him thô she burn with equal fire She suffers at her feet t' expire Preferring glory to desire Dye then oh dye unhappy swain And leave her to lament in vain The cruel sports of her disdain You fall a Publique sacrifice Since she will weep away those Eyes By whose each look a lover dyes SONG 1. by the same hand WHen sable night had conquer'd day And Beauteous Cynthia rose As I in tears reflecting lay On Cloe's faithless vows The God of Love appear'd to me To heal my wounded heart The Influencing Deity With pleasure arm'd each Dart. Fond man said he here end thy wo Till she my power and Justice know The foolish Sex shall all do so 2. And for thy ease believe no bliss Is perfect without pain The fairest Summer hurtful is Without some showrs of Rain The Joys of Heaven who wou'd prise If men too cheaply bought The dearest part of mortal Joys Most charming is when sought And thô with dross true Love they pay Those that know finest metals say No Gold will coyn without allay 3. But that the generous Lover may Not always sigh in vain The cruel Nymph that kills to day To morrow shall be slain The little God no sooner spoke But from my sight he flew And I that groan'd with Cloe's yoak Found Loves revenge was true Her proud hard heart too late did turn With fiercer flames than mine did burn While I as much began to scorn A Pastoral Song on the late King WHy Phillis in this mournful dress Ah! why so full of Tears These sighs my dearest Shepherdess Suit not thy tender years Thy sheep lye panting on the plain Not one of them will feed Thy Lambs in peircing crys complain Whence whence does this proceed Ah Strephon we are all undone With trembling voyce she said The best of Men to Heaven is gone The great Amintor's dead What will become of thou and I Of these dear Flocks that moan They will be Stole and we shall dye Now wise Amintor's gone Best blessings rest upon his Soul The Loyal Swain reply'd Yet let this thought thy greif controul Pan does for us provide And thô the brave Amintor's gone Alexis does remain Since he is left we 're not undone Nor ought we to complain In him our loss is made amends He 'll us
the young God we laid With equal Flames they Burnt with equal Joy But with a Fire that neither did destroy Soft was its Force and Sympathy with them Dispers'd it self through every trembling Limb We cou'd not hide our tender new surprize We languisht and confest it with our Eyes Thus gaz'd we when the Sacrifice perform'd We found our Hearts entire but still they burn But by a Blessed change in taking back The lovely Virgin did her Heart mistake Her Bashful Eyes favour'd Love's great design I took her Burning Victim and she mine Thus Lysidas without constraint or Art I reign'd the Monarch of Aminta's Heart My great my happy Title she allows And makes me Lord of all her tender Vows All my past Griefs in coming Joys were drown'd And with eternal Pleasure I was Crown'd My Blessed hours in the extream of Joy With my soft Languisher I still imploy When I am Gay Love Revels in her Eyes When sad there the young God all panting lies A thousand freedoms now she does impart Shows all her tenderness dis-rob'd of Art But oh this cou'd not satisfy my Heart A thousand Anguishes that still contains It sighs and heaves and pants with pleasing pains We look and Kiss and Press with new desire Whilst every touch Blows the unusual Fire For Love's last Mystery was yet conceal'd Which both still languisht for both wisht reveal'd Which I prest on and faintly she deny'd With all the weak efforts of dying Pride Which struggled long for Empire in her Soul Where it was wont to rule without controul But Conquering Love had got possession now And open'd every Sally to the Foe And to secure my doubting happiness Permits me to conduct her to the Bow'r of Bliss That Bow'r that does eternal Pleasures yield Where Psyche first the God of Love beheld But oh in entering this so blest abode All Gay and Pleas'd as a Triumphing God I new unlook'd for difficulties meet Encountring Honour at the sacred Gate HONOUR I. HOnour 's a mighty Phantom which around The sacred Bower does still appear All Day it haunts the hollow'd ground And hinders Lovers entering there It rarely ever takes its flight But in the secret shades of night Silence and gloom the charm can soonest end And are the luckyest hours to lay the Fiend Then 't is the Vision only will remove With Incantations of soft Vows of Love II. But as a God he 's Worshipt here By all the lovely young and fair Who all their kind desires controul And plays the Tyrant o're the Soul His chiefest Attributes are Pride and Spight His pow'r is robbing Lovers of delight An Enemy to Humane kind But most to Youth severe As Age ill-natur'd and as ignorance Blind Boasting and Baffled too as Cowards are Fond in opinion obstinately Wise Fills the whole World with bus'ness and with noise III. Where wert thou born from what didst thou begin And what strange Witchcraft brought thy Maxims in What hardy Fool first taught thee to the Crowd Or who the Duller Slaves that first believ'd Some Woman sure ill-natur'd old and proud Too ugly ever to have been deceiv'd Unskill'd in Love in Virtue or in Truth Preach'd thy false Notions first and so debaucht our Youth IV. And as in other Sectuaries you find His Votaries most consist of Womankind Who Throng t' adore the necessary Evil But most for fear as Indians do the Devil Peevish un-easy all for in Revenge Love shoots 'em with a thousand Darts They feel but not confess the change Their false Devotion cannot save their Hearts Thus while the Idol Honour they obey Swift time comes on and blooming Charms decay And Ruin'd Beauty does too late the Cheat betray This Goblin here the lovely Maid Alarms And snatch'd her even from my Trembling Arms With all the Pow'r of Non-sence he commands Which she for mighty Reason understands Aminta fly he crys fly heedless Maid For if thou enter'st this Bewitching shade Thy Flame Content and Lover all are lost And thou no more of Him or Fame shall boast The charming Pleasure soon the Youth will cloy And what thou wouldst preserve that will destroy Oh hardy Maid by too much Love undone Where are thy Modesty and Blushes gone Where 's all that Virtue made thee so Ador'd For Beauty stript of Virtue grows abhorr'd Dyes like a flower whose scent quick Poyson gives Though every gawdy Glory paints its leaves Oh fly fond Maid fly that false happiness That will attend Thee in the Bower of Bliss Thus spoke the Phantom while the listening Maid Took in the fatal Councel and obey'd Frighted she flys even from the Temple door And left me fainting on the sacred floor LOVE saw my Griefs and to my rescue came Where on his Bosom thus I did complain The LOSS WEep weep Lysander for the lovely Maid To whom thy sacred Vows were paid Regardless of thy Love thy Youth thy Vows The Dull Advice of Honour now pursues Oh say my lovely Charmer where Is all that softness gone Your tender Voice and Eyes did were VVhen first I was undone Oh whether are your Sighs and Kisses fled VVhere are those clasping Arms That left me oft with Pleasures dead VVith their Excess of Charms VVhere is the Killing Language of thy Tongue That did the Ravisht Soul surprize VVhere is that tender Rhetorick gone That flow'd so softly in thy Eyes That did thy heavenly face so sweetly dress That did thy wonderous Soul so well express All fled with Honour on a Phantom lost Where Youth 's vast store must perish unpossest Ah my dear Boy thy loss with me bemoan The lovely Fugitive is with Honour gone Love laughing spread his Wings and mounting flies As swift as Lightning through the yielding Skies Where Honour bore away the Trembling Prize There at her Feet the Little Charmer falls And to his Aid his powerful softness calls Assails her with his Tears his Sighs and Crys Th' unfailing Language of his Tongue and Eyes Return said he return oh fickle Maid Who solid Joys abandon'st for a shade Turn and behold the Slaughter of thy Eyes See the Heart-broken Youth all dying lyes Why dost thou follow this Phantastick spright This faithless Ignis Fatuus of the Light This Foe to Youth and Beauties worst Disease Tyrant of Wit of Pleasure and of Ease Of all substantial Harms he Author is But never pays us back one solid Bliss You 'l urge your Fame is worth a thousand Joys Deluded Maid trust not to empty noise A sound that for a poor Esteem to gain Damns thy whole Life t' uneasyness and pain Mistaken Virgin that which pleases me I cannot by another tast and see And what 's the complementing of the World to thee No no return with me and there receive What poor what scanted Honour cannot give Starve not those Charms that were for pleasure made Nor unpossest let the rich Treasure fade When time comes on Honour that empty word Will leave thee then fore-slighted Age to guard Honour
Thirsis lay With his Silvia reconcil'd Whose Eyes did brighter beams display While the lovely charmer smil'd With Joy transported cry'd my dear Let us let us often jar Peace always sweetest do's appear After sharpe fatigues of War No said the Nymph mistaken swain 'T is best our quarrels to give o're Kingdoms may jar and close again But broken Love cements no more The Choyce SIlvia of all your Amorous train The Black the Brown or Fair The wealthy Lord or humble Swain For whom will you declare If wealth or Beauty do prevail My claim I then resign If truth and love I cannot faile And Silvia must be mine A Letter to Astrea THe Muse which fair Astrea first inspir'd Has droopt and lost its flame since she retir'd And to the feather'd Poets which belong To Groves resigns her fainting Song Nor is this Lethargy her fate alone For general dulness has possest the Town The Town that now can boast no crowded street Where none but sharp-set younger Brothers meet For well they know their mirth and Wit alas Their only coyn will not i' th country pass Yet in a cloud of smoke o're Coffee dry What pleasure t is to hear the Sharpers cry Pox o' this business that still sticks and dwells Upon my hands and keeps me from the Wells But I resolve a bold escape to make And to throng'd Tunbridg a short Jorney take My humblest service to Eliza give And when your Gloriana shall receive Your next let my respects have then a place Let fair Astrea last be pleas'd to grace These lines with her acceptance and excuse The broken Language of a dying Muse. Since she 's already drawing to a close To write in verse I can no more propose What next I send expect in honest prose To Mrs B. from a Lady who had a desire to see her and who complains on the ingratitude of her fugitive Lover KInd are my Stars indeed but that so late And I stranger to a gentle fate If such a one I meet and chance to know I have not proper words to call it so Wondering at happiness surpris'd as far As a rough General always train'd to War Snatch'd from the midst of cruel fierce alarms Into a thousand unexpected charms A joy like this how shall I entertain With a heart wounded and a soul in pain In my laborious enterprises crost My life near Finis and the Day quite lost Cleone had a Swain and lov'd the youth Not for his Beauty but his seeming truth Not for a goodly herd or high descent Ah that no God my ruin would prevent What thô the Swain had neither Sheep nor land I scorn'd the goods of fortunes partial hand So generous was my passion for the slave Because I equally suppos'd him brave Oh! give me leave to sigh one sad adieu Then wholly dedicate myself to you I have no business here but to complain Of all the treasons of an ingrate Swain Since my inhumane perjur'd Shepherd 's gone Night four seven times has put her mantle on And three seven times Aurora has appear'd Since last I from the cruel Strephon heard Whither he lives is dead or on what shore Patience ye Gods alas I know no more Then why my Stars do my destruction press Send me your pity bounteous Shepherdess That I the face of grief no more may know If I deserve it that cou'd Love so low Consult not that but charity and give One tender pittying sigh that I may live That I may thus make my complaint to you Kind are my Stars indeed at last 't is true Let not my rude and untam'd griefs destroy The early glimmerings of an infant joy And add not your neglect for if you doe Cleone finds her desolation too Know this it yet remains in your fair breast To render me the happy or unblest You may act miracles if you 'l be kind Make me true joys in real sorrows find And bless the hour I hither did pursue A faithless Swain and found access to you Accept the heart I here to you present By the ingratitude of Strephon rent Till then gay noble full of brave disdain And unless yours prevent shall be again As once it was if in your generous brest It may be Pensioner at my request No more to Treasons subject as before To be betray'd by a fair tale no more As large as once as uncontroul'd and free But yet at your command shall always be To the fair Clarinda who made Love to me imagin'd more than Woman By Mrs. B. FAir lovely Maid or if that Title be Too weak too Feminine for Nobler thee Permit a Name that more Approaches Truth And let me call thee Lovely Charming Youth This last will justifie my soft complaint While that may serve to lessen my constraint And without Blushes I the Youth persue When so much beauteous Woman is in view Against thy Charms we struggle but in vain With thy deluding Form thou giv'st us pain While the bright Nymph betrays us to the Swain In pity to our Sex sure thou wer 't sent That we might Love and yet be Innocent For sure no Crime with thee we can commit Or if we shou'd thy Form excuses it For who that gathers fairest Flowers believes A Snake lies hid beneath the Fragrant Leaves Thou beauteous Wonder of a different kind Soft Cloris with the dear Alexis join'd When e'r the Manly part of thee wou'd plead Thou tempts us with the Image of the Maid While we the noblest Passions do extend The Love to Hermes Aphrodite the Friend FINIS * So he called a Sweating-Tub a Lent b I wanted a Prologue to a Play c He pretended to 〈◊〉 Write * Little Arts to please * Duty The Earl of Rochester her Uncle