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Fickle bliss, fantastic treasure,ged by
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove Thomson
From all uneasy passions free, Sheffield D. of Buck.
From her, alas ! whose smile was love,
From place to place, forlorn, I go
From thy waves, stormy Lannow, I fly, Anna Seward.
Gentle air, thou breath of lovers,
Give me more love or more disdain ; Carew.
Go, lovely rose ! Waller.
Go, plaintive sounds! and to the fair
Go tell Amynta, gentle swain, Dryden.
Good madam, when ladies are willing,
Hail to the myrtle shade, Lee.
Hard is the fate of him who loves,
Have you not seen the timid tear
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Honest lover, whosoever,
How bright the sun's declining rays
I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair,
I did but look and love awhile,
I have a silent sorrow here,
1 mark'd his madly-rolling eye,
R. B. Sheridan.
I pr'ythee send me back my heart,
I talk'd to my fluttering heart, Laura Sophia Temple.
I tell thee, Charmion, could I time retrieve, Congreve. 207
If in that breast, so good, so pure,
Sir J. Moore.
If ever thou didst joy to bind.
It is not, Celia, in our power
If Love and Reason ne'er agrees
If the quick spirit of your eye
If wine and music have the power,
In Chloris all soft charms agree,
In vain you tell your parting lover
In vain, dear Chloe, you suggest
In vain, fond youth! thy tears give o'er ;
It was a winter's evening, and fast came down the snow
Kitty's charming voice and face
Late when love I seem'd to slight,
Laura, thy sighs must now no more
Lesbia, live to love and pleasure,
Let ambition fire thy mind,
Let not love on me bestow
Let the ambitious favour find
Love arms himself in Celia's eyes
Love still has something of the sea
Love's a dream of mighty treasure
Love's but the frailty of the mind
Lucy, I think not of thy beauty,
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Bryan Edwards. * 227}
O clear that cruel doubting brow!
O memory! thou fond deceiver,
O Nancy, wilt thou go with me,
O Nymph! of Fortune's smiles beware Wolcott.
O'er moorlands and mountains, rude, barren and bare,
Oft on the troubled ocean's face
Oh! Henry, sure by every art
Oh! turn away those cruel eyes,
Oh! what is the gain of restless care,
Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
On Belvidera's bosom lying, A. Phillips.
On every hill, in every grove, Dalton.
One morning very early, one morning in the spring,
Say, sweet carol! who are they Joanna Baillie.
Send home my long-stray'd eyes to me, Donne
Shall I, wasting in despair,
She loves, and she confesses too;
Should some perverse malignant star
Slow spreads the gloom my soul desires,
Stella and Flavia every hour
Still to be neat, still to be drest,
Strephon has fashion, wit and youth,
Strephon, when you see me fly
Swain, thy hopeless passion smother,
Sweet maid, I hear thy frequent sigh,
The shape alone let others prize,
The sun was sunk beneath the hill,
The tears I shed must ever fall!
The thirsty earth drinks up the rain,
The wretch condemn'd with life to part Goldsmith.
The wretch O let me never know
There is one dark and sullen hour
Too plain, dear youth, these tell-tale eyes Soame Jenyns. 100
'Twas when the seas were roaring, Gay.
When Fanny blooming fair
When first I sought fair Celia's love,
When first I saw thee graceful move,
When first upon your tender check
When gentle Celia first I knew,