THE In hafte to DELIA's lips to go, With equal hafte and equal heat, And touch that heart I ne'er could move. And find at laft the blissful way Which thought may paint, tho' verse mayn't say. Too happy rival dwell not there To rack my heart with jealous care, M upon Death. Iftaken fair, lay Sherlock by, His doctrine is deceiving; For whilst he teaches us to die, To die's a leffon we fhall know Then let us only study now To live's to love, to blefs, be bleft With mutual inclination; Share then my ardour in your breaft, And kindly meet my paffion. But if thus blefs'd I may not live, And pity you deny, To me at leaft your Sherlock give, 'Tis I must learn to die. SONG. 1 SON G. HEN Fanny blooming fair Struck with her shape and air, Whilft eagerly I gaz'd, And every feature prais'd, In her bewitching eyes Ten thousand loves appear; There Cupid basking lies, His fhafts are hoarded there; With colour all their own, Of rofes newly blown. Her Her well-turn'd limbs confefs The lucky hand of Jove; Her features all exprefs The beauteous queen of love : What flames my nerves invade, When I behold the breast Of that too charming maid Venus round Fanny's waist How happy must he be, Who fhall her zone unloofe ! That blifs to all, but me, May heaven and she refuse. SONG. SONG. W Henever, Chloe, I begin Your heart like mine to move, You tell me of the crying fin Of unchafte lawless love. How can that paffion be a fin, To wed, mankind the priest trepann'd, By fome fly fallacy, And difobey'd God's great command, Increase and multiply. You say that love's a crime; content: More joy's in heav'n if one repent, Than over ninety just. Sin |