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WHY, DELIA, ever while I gaze

Appears in frowns that lovely face?
Why are those smiles to me denied
That gladden every heart beside?
In vain your eyes my flame reprove,
I may despair, but still must love.

From sweetest airs I sought relief,
And hoped from music cure for grief;
Fool that I was! the thrilling sound
Served only to increase the wound;
I, while for rest I fondly strove,
Forgot that music strengthens love.

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To pleasures of a different kind
Soon undeceived I turn'd my mind:
I sought the fair, the gay, the young,

And dress'd, and play'd, and danced, and sung:
Vain joys! too weak my heart to move,
Ah! what are you to her I love?

T

When drooping on the bed of pain,
I look'd on every hope as vain;

When

When pitying friends stood weeping by,
And death's pale shade seem'd hovering nigh,
No terror could my flame remove,
Or steal a thought from her I love.

Absence may bring relief," I cried,
And straight the dreadful hope I tried;
Alas! in vain was every care;

Still in my heart I bore my fair
Ah! whither, whither shall I rove
To shun despair, or fly from love?

WHILE from my looks, fair nymph, you guess

The secret passions of my mind,
My heavy eyes, you say, confess
A heart to love and grief inclined.

There needs, alas! but little art

To have this fatal secret found; With the same ease you threw the dart, 'Tis certain you may show the wound.

How

How can I see you, and not love,
While you as opening East are fair?
While cold as northern blasts you prove,
How can I love, and not despair?

The wretch in double fetters bound

Your potent mercy may release;
Soon, if my love but once were crown'd,
Fair prophetess! my grief would cease.

THE heavy hours are almost past

That part my love and me;
My longing eyes may hope at last
Their only wish to see.

But how, my DELIA, will you meet
The man you've lost so long?
Will love in all your pulses beat,
And tremble on your tongue?

Will

you in every look declare Your heart is still the same; And heal each idly anxious care Our fears in absence frame?

Thus

Thus, DELIA, thus I paint the scene
When shortly we shall meet,
And try what yet remains between
Of loit'ring time to cheat.

But if the dream that soothes my mind
Shall false and groundless prove,

If I am doom'd at length to find
You have forgot to love;

All I of Venus ask is this,
No more to let us join :
But grant me here the flatt'ring bliss,
To die and think you mine.

LYTTELTON.

Ir wine and music have the power
To ease the sickness of the soul,
Let Phœbus every string explore,
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl:

G

Let

Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my CHLOE's absence light,
And seek for pleasure, to destroy
The sorrows of this livelong night.

But she tomorrow will return;
Venus, be thou tomorrow great ;
Thy myrtles strew, thy odours burn,

And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state.
Kind goddess, to no other powers

Let us tomorrow's blessings own; The darling Loves shall guide the hours, And all the day be thine alone.

HONEST lover, whosoever,
If in all thy love there ever

Was one wavering, if thy flame
Were not still even, still the same,

Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again and love anew.

PRIOR.

If,

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