Love's a dream of mighty treasure,

Which in fancy we possess;

In the folly lies the pleasure,
Wisdom always makes it less.

When we think, by passion heated,
We a Goddess have in chase,

Like Ixion we are cheated,

And a gaudy cloud embrace.

Happy only is the lover

Whom his mistress well deceives;

Seeking nothing to discover,

Ile contented lives at ease;

While the wretch who would be knowing
What the fair one would disguise,

Labours for his own undoing,

Changnig happy to be wise.

CHLOE's the wonder of her sex,

'Tis well her heart is tender; How might such killing eyes perplex,

With virtue to defend her!

But

But Nature, graciously inclined
With liberal hand to please us,
Has to her boundless beauty join'd

A boundless bent to ease us.

LANDSDOWN.

PRETTY

RETTY Parrot, say, when I was away,
And in dull absence pass'd the day,
What at home was doing?

"With chat and play

All were gay,

Night and day,

Good cheer and mirth renewing;
Singing, laughing all, like pretty pretty Poll."

Was no fop so rude, boldly to intrude,

And like a saucy lover would

Court and tease my lady?

"A thing, you know,

Made for show,

Call'd a beau,

Near her was always ready;

Ever at her call, like pretty pretty Poll."

Tell me with what air he approach'd the fair,

And how she could with patience bear
All he did and,utter'd.

"He still address'd,
Still caress'd,

Kiss'd and press'd,

Sung, prattled, laugh'd and flatter'd ; Well received in all, like pretty pretty Poll."

Did he go away at the close of day,

Or did he ever use to stay

In a corner dodging?

"The want of light,

When 't was night,

Spoil'd my sight;

But I believe his lodging

Was within her call, like pretty pretty Poll." *

WHY Will DELIA thus retire,
Languishing her life away?

While the sighing crowds admire,
'Tis too soon for hartshorn tea.

* This lively and singular piece was probably popular at the time of writing the " Beggar's Opera," which has a song to the same measure, It certainly merits preservation.

All these dismal looks and fretting Cannot DAMON's life restore;

Long ago the worms have eat him, You can never see him more.

Once again consult your toilet, In the glass your face review;

So much weeping sure will spoil it, And no spring your charms renew.

I, like you, was born a woman, Well I know what vapours mean; The disease, alas! is common; Single, we have all the spleen.

All the morals that they teach us Never cured a sorrow yet:

Choose among the pretty fellows One of humour, youth and wit.

Pr'ythee hear him every morning At the least an hour or two;

Once again at night returning,

I believe the dose will do.

LADY M. W. MONTAGU.

CLEAR that cruel doubting brow!

I'll call on mighty Jove

To witness this eternal vow;

'Tis you alone I love!

"O leave the God to soft repose,"

The smiling maid replies;

"For Jove but laughs at lovers' oaths,

And lovers' perjuries."

By honour'd Beauty's gentle pow'r;
By Friendship's holy flame!
"Ah! what is beauty but a flow'r,
And Friendship but a name ?"

By those dear tempting lips! I cried-
With arch ambiguous look
Convinced my CHLOE glanced aside,

And bid me "Kiss the book."

BRYAN EDWARDS.

Q 2