My love and I for kisses play'd;
She would keep stakes, I was content; But when I won she would be paid,
This made me ask her what she meant;
Nay, since I see (quoth she) you wrangle in vain, Take your own kisses, give me mine again.
SOFT child of Love-thou balmy bliss,
Inform me, O delicious Kiss!
Why thou so suddenly art gone,
Lost in the moment thou art won?
Yet, go for wherefore should I sigh ?—
On Delia's lip, with raptured eye,
On Delia's blushing lip, I see
A thousand full as sweet as thee!
PHILOSOPHERS pretend to tell,
How like a hermit in his cell,
The soul within the brain does dwell:
But I, who am not half so wise,
Think I have seen't in Chloe's eyes,
Down to her lips from thence it stole,
And there I kiss'd her very soul.
THE AUBURN LOCK.
COME, lovely lock of Julia's hair,
The gift of that bewitching fair,
Come, next my heart shalt thou be laid,
Thou precious little auburn braid!
Of Julia's charms, O sacred part,
Thou'st drank the pure stream of her heart;
Thou'st tended on my love's repose,
Thou'st kiss'd her fingers when she rose,
And, half concealing many a grace,
Giv'n added powers to that sweet face:
Oft, careless, o'er her shoulders flung,
Down her small waist redundant hung;
And oft thy wanton curls have press'd,
And dared to kiss her snow-white breast!
High favour'd lock! O, thou shalt be
The dearest gift of life to me.
Come, next my heart shalt thou be laid,
Delightful little auburn braid!
And art thou mine? and did my fair
Intrust thee to her lover's care?
What streams of bliss wilt thou impart,
Who drank the stream of Julia's heart!
O, thou shalt be the healing power
To soothe me in misfortune's hour,
And oft, beneath my pillow laid,
My soul in dreams will ask thine aid.
Thou shalt inspire with full delight
The fairest visions of the night;
For thou, intrusive lock, hast spread
And wanton'd o'er my Julia's bed;
Seen the sweet languish of her eyes,
Heard all her wishes, all her sighs:
O, thou hast been divinely bless'd,
And pass'd whole nights on Julia's breast.
Come, then, dear lock of Julia's hair,
The gift of that enchanting fair.
Come, next my heart shalt thou be laid,
Delightful little auburn braid!
ON THE DEATH OF mr. robeRT LEVET, A
PRACTISER IN PHYSIC.
WELL tried thro' many a varying year,
See Levet to the grave descend,
Officious, innocent, sincere,
Of every friendless name the friend.
In Misery's darkest cavern known,
His useful care was ever nigh,
Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,
And lonely Want retired to die.
No summons mock'd by chill delay,
No petty gain disdain'd by pride,
The modest wants of every day,
The toil of every day supplied.
His virtues walked their narrow round,
Nor made a pause nor left a void :
And sure the Eternal Master found
The single talent well employ'd.
SINCE truth ha' left the shepherd's tongue,
Adieu the cheerful pipe and song ;
Adieu the dance at closing day,
And, ah, the happy morn of May.
How oft he told me I was fair,
And wove the garland for my hair.
How oft for Marian stript the bower,
To fill my lap with every flower!
No more his gifts of guile I'll wear,
But from my brow the chaplet tear ;
The crook he gave in pieces break,
And rend his ribbons from my neck.
How oft he vow'd a constant flame,
And carved on every oak my name!
Blush, Colin, that the wounded tree
Is all that will remember me.
I FEED a flame within, which so torments me,
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me :
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die, than once remove it.
Yet he for whom I grieve shall never know it,
My tongue does not betray, nor my eye show it :
No sigh, and not a tear, my pain discloses,
For they fall silently like dew on roses.
Thus to prevent my love from being cruel,
My heart's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel:
And while I suffer thus to give him quiet,
My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me ; While I conceal my love, no frown can fright me : To be more happy I dare not aspire ;
Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.
ON LADY MARGARET FORDYCE.
MARK'D you her cheek of roseate hue?
Mark'd you her eye of radiant blue?-
That eye, in liquid circles moving!
That cheek, abash'd at man's approving!
The one Love's arrows darting round,
The other blushing at the wound.
Did she not speak, did she not move,
Now Pallas, -now the Queen of Love.
Rt. Hon. Richard B. Sheridan.
You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume
That you cherish a secret affection for me?
When we see the flowers bud, don't we look for the bloom!
Then, sweetest! attend while I answer to thee.
When we young men with pastimes the twilight beguile,
I watch your plump cheek till it dimples with joy :
And observe, that whatever occasions the smile,
You give me a glance; but provokingly coy.
Last month, when wild strawberries, plucked in the grove,
Like beads on the tall seeded grass you had strung,
You gave me the choicest; I hoped 'twas for love;
And I told you my hopes while the nightingale sung.
Remember the viper :-'twas close at your feet,
How you started, and threw yourself into my arms:
Not a strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet
As the lips which I kiss'd, to subdue your alarms.
As I pull'd down the clusters of nuts for my fair,
What a blow I received from a strong-bending bough;
Tho' Lucy and other gay lasses were there,
Not one of them show'd such compassion as you.
And was it compassion? by Heaven 'twas more!
A tell-tale betrays you ;-that blush on your cheek-
There come, dearest maid, all your trifling give o'er,
And whisper what candour will teach you to speak.
Can you stain my fair honour with one broken vow?
Can you say that I've ever occasion'd a pain?
On truth's honest base let your tenderness grow;
I swear to be faithful, again and again.
THERE are some wishes that may start,
Nor cloud the brow, nor sting the heart.
Gladly then would I see how smiled
One who now fondles with her child;
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