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If, when the darling maid is gone,
Thou doft not feek to be alone

Wrapt in a pleafing trance of tender woe;
And mufe and fold thy languid arms,
Feeding thy fancy on her charms,

Thou doft not love-for love is nourish'd fo.

If any hopes thy bofom share,

But those which love has planted there, Or any cares but his thy breast enthral ;

Thou never yet his power haft known:
Love fits on a defpotic throne,
And reigns a tyrant*-if he reigns at all.

Now, if thou art so loft a thing,
Hither thy tender forrows bring;

And prove, whose patience longest can endure:

We'll strive whose fancy shall be toss'd
In dreams of fondest passion most;

For, if thou thus haft lov'd, oh! never hope a cure.

MRS. BARBAULD.

"The divine right of BEAUTY is the only one an Englishman "ought to acknowledge, and a PRETTY WOMAN the only tyrant he " is not authorised to refift." JUN.

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Dumque abfit-ni percupias tecum effe, viafque

Sæpiùs ambiguas incomitatus eas—

Nefcio quid tenerum meditans et totus in illud,

Quicquid id eft, raptus-non tibi notus Amor.

VII.

Sique tuum pectus contingat fpefve metusve,

Quæ tibi non dederit blandus et asper Amor; Hinc procul, erro levis! nondum urere: cuncta tyrannus Nam regit imperio, cùm regit, ifte fero.

VIII.

Atqui fi fueris, puer, ah! tam perditus, adfis;

Ut, quid uterque gemit, discere uterque queat: Quifquis enim quamcunque ita perditè amaveris, unquam (Crede) medela mali non erit ulla tui.

IMPROMPTU;

Spoken between the third and fourth acts of Mrs. COWLEY'S Tragedy, entitled THE FALL OF SPARTA.

So great thy art-that, while we view'd

Of SPARTA's fons the lot severe,

We caught the Spartan fortitude;

And faw their woes-without a tear.

PARSONS.

LINES

Addreffed to LADY MILLER, on the Urn at Bath-Eafton.

MILLER, the Urn in antient times ('tis said)

Held the collected afhes of the dead;

So thine, the wonder of these modern days,
Stands open night and day for lifeless lays :
Leave not unfinish'd then the well-form'd plan,
Complete the work thy claffic taste began;
And oh in future, ere thou doft inurn 'em,
Remember first to raise a pile-and burn 'em.

JEKYLL.

IMITATED.

Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta,
Quale fopor

VIRG. Ecl. v. 45. .

DURA nimis SPARTÆ pingis dum fata ruentis,

Stratofque oftendis, corpora magna, duces; Virtutem nofmet spectando haurimus et ipfi

Spartanam,-inque genas lacryma nulla cadit.

IMITATED.

OSSA

SSA priùs veterum, fic dicitur, Urna recepit; Verfus exfangues nunc eadem Urna capit :

Adde, operi folum id reftat quod deficit, ignem ; Quoque cremes versus, fit (precor) antè rogus.

H

ILS ne font plus ces jours délicieux,

Où mon amour respectueux et tendre

A votre cœur favoit fe faire entendre ;

Où vous m'aimiez, où nous etions heureux!

Vous adorer, vous le dire et vous plaire,
Sur vos defirs régler tous mes defirs-
C'étoit mon fort, j'y bornois mes plaifirs;
Aimé de vous, quels vœux pouvois-je faire ?

Tout eft changé quand je fuis près de vous,

Trifte et fans voix vous n'avez rien à dire ; Si quelquefois je tombe à vos genoux,

Vous m'arrétez avec un froid sourire, Et dans vos yeux s'allume le courroux.

Il fut un tems (vous l'oubliez peut-être !)
Où j'y trouvois cette molle langueur,
Ce tendre feu que
le defir fait naître,

Et qui furvit au moment de bonheur.

Tout eft changé, tout-excepté mon cœur !

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