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Then forever thy fame would I speak-
O my lute, what a triumph were mine!

Ah! whisper kind love in her ear,

And sweetly my wishes impart;
Say, the swain who adores her is near,
Say, thy sounds are the sighs of his heart.

WOLCOTT.

I PR'Y THEE send me back my heart,
Since I cannot have thine;

For if from yours you will not part,
Why then shouldst thou have mine?

Yet, now I think on 't, let it lie,
To find it were in vain ;

For thou'st a thief in either eye
Would steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie,
And yet not lodge together?

O Love! where is thy sympathy
If thus our breasts thou sever?

But

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But love is such a mystery,
I cannot find it out;

For, when I think I'm best resolved,
Then I am most in doubt.

Then farewell, care, and farewell, woe!
I will no longer pine;

For I'll believe I have her heart

As much as she has mine.

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WHILST I fondly view the charmer,

Thus the God of Love I sue: "Gentle Cupid, pray disarm her,

Cupid, if you love me, do:
Of a thousand smiles bereave her,
Rob her neck, her lips, her eyes;
The remainder still will leave her
Power enough to tyranize.

Shape and feature, flame and passion
Still in every breast will move :

SUCKLING.

More

More is supererogation,

Mere idolatry of love:

You may dress a world of CHLOES

In the beauty she can spare:
Hear him, Cupid, who no foe is
To your altars or the fair. "

"Foolish mortal, pray be easy;"
Angry Cupid made reply:
Do FLORELLA's charms displease ye?
Die then, foolish mortal! die.
Fancy not that I'll deprive her

Of the captivating store:
Shepherd, no, I'll rather give her
Twenty thousand beauties more.

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"Were FLORELLA proud and sour,
Apt to mock a lover's care,
Justly then you 'd pray that power

Should be taken from the fair:
But though I spread a blemish o'er her,
No relief in that you'll find:
Still, fond shepherd, you'd adore her
For the beauties of the mind."

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WHILE STREPHON in his pride of youth

To me alone profest
Dissembled passion, drest like truth,
He triumph'd in my breast.

I lodged him near my yielding heart,
Denied him not my arms,
Deluded by his pleasing art,
Transported with his charms.

The wanderer now I lose, or share
With every lovely maid :-

Who makes the heart of man her care
Shall have her own betray'd.

Our charms on them we vainly prove,
And think we conquest gain :
Where one a victim falls to love,
A thousand tyrants reign.

WOMAN,

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WOMAN, thoughtless, giddy creature,

Laughing, idle, fluttering thing, Most fantastic work of Nature, Still, like fancy, on the wing;

"Slave to every changing passion,

Loving, hating in extreme, Fond of every foolish fashion, And, at best, a pleasing dream;

"Lovely trifle, dear illusion,

Conquering weakness, wisht-for pain,
Man's chief glory, and confusion,
Of all vanity most vain!"

Thus, deriding beauty's power,
BEVIL call'd it all a cheat;

But in less than half an hour

Kneel'd and whined at CELIA's feet.

A WRETCH

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