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NYM. With thy careful arts to cover

That which fools will count a fault, Trueft friend as well as lover,

Oh! deferve fo kind a thought.

EACH A PART FIRST, AND THEN BOTH TOGETHER.

SHEP.

NY M.

Happy we fhall lie poffeffing,
Folded in each other's arms,
Love and nature's chiefeft bleffing
In the still increasing charms.

So the dearest joys of loving,
Which fcarce Heav'n can go beyond,
Well be ev'ry day improving,

You more fair, and I more fond.
I more fair, and you more fond.

On one who died discovering her Kindness.

OME vex their fouls with jealous pain,
while others figh for cold difdain:

Love's various flaves we daily fee;

Yet happy all, compar'd with me.

Of all mankind, I lov'd the best
A nymph fo far above the rest,
That we outfhin'd the bleft above,
In beauty fhe, and I in love.

And therefore they who could not bear
To be outdone by mortals here,
Among themselves have plac'd her now,
And left me wretched here below.

All other fate I could have born,
And ev'n endur'd her very scorn ;
But oh! thus all at once to find
That dread account! both dead and kind!
What heart can hold? If yet I live,
'Tis but to fhew how much I grieve.

On LUCINDA'S Death.

COM

OME all ye doleful, dismal cares,
That ever haunted guilty mind!
The pangs of love when it despairs,
And all thofe ftings the jealous find:
Alas! heart-breaking tho' ye be,
Yet welcome, welcome all to me!

Who now have loft

-but oh! how much?

No language, nothing can express,
Except my grief; for fhe was fuch,
That praifes would but make her lefs.
Yet who can ever dare to raise
His voice on her, unless to praise?
Free from her fex's fmalleft faults,
And fair as womankind can be;
Tender and warm as lover's thoughts,
Yet cold to all the world but me.
Of all this nothing now remains,
But only fighs and endless pains!

To a Lady retiring into a Monaftery.

W

HAT breaft but yours can hold the double fire Of fierce devotion, and of fond defire? Love would fhine forth, were not your zeal fo bright, Whofe glaring flames eclipse his gentler light: Lefs feems the faith that mountains can remove, Than this which triumphs over youth and love. But shall some threat'ning priest divide us two? What worse than that could all his curfes do? Thus with a fright some have refign'd their breath, And poorly dy'd only for fear of death.

Heav'n fees our paffions with indulgence still,
And they who love well, can do nothing ill.
While to us nothing but ourselves is dear,
Should the world frown, yet what have we to fear?
Fame, wealth, and pow'r, those high-priz'd gifts of fate,
The low concerns of a less happy state,
Are far beneath us: fortune's felf may take
Her aim at us, yet no impression make;
Let worldlings ask her help, or fear her harms;
We can lie fafe, lock'd in each other's arms,
Like the bleft faints, eternal raptures know;
And flight those storms that vainly rest below.
Yet this, all this you are refolv'd to quit ;
I fee my ruin, and I must submit:

But think, O think, before you prove unkind,
How loft a wretch you leave forlorn behind.
Malignant envy, mix'd with hate and fear,
Revenge for
wrongs too burdenfome to bear,

Ev'n zeal itself, from whence all mischiefs spring,
Have never done fo barbarous a thing.

With fuch a fate the heav'ns decreed to vex
ARMIDA once, tho' of the fairer sex;
RINALDO fhe had charm'd with fo much art,
Her's was his pow'r, his person, and his heart:
Honour's high thoughts no more his mind could move;
She footh'd his rage, and turn'd it all to love:
When strait a guft of fierce devotion blows,
And in a moment all her joys o'erthrows:
The poor ARMIDA tears her golden hair,
Matchlefs till now, for love, or for despair.
Who is not mov'd while the fad nymph complains?
Yet you now act what TASSO only feigns;
And after all our vows, our fighs, our tears,
My banish'd forrows, and your conquer'd fears;
So many doubts, so many dangers past,
Visions of zeal must vanquish me at last.

Thus, in great HOMER's war, throughout the field Some hero still made all things mortal yield; But when a God once took the vanquish'd fide, The weak prevail'd, and the victorious dy❜d.

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