So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky.

THE TEARS OF AMYNTA,

For the Death of Damon.

ON a bank, beside a willow,

Heaven her covering, earth her pillow,

Sad Amynta sigh'd alone:

From the cheerless dawn of morning,
Till the dews of night returning,
Sighing, thus she made her moan:
'Hope is banish'd

Joys are vanish'd,

Damon, my beloved, is gone!'

Time, I dare thee to discover Such a youth, and such a lover; Oh! so true, so kind was he! Damon was the pride of Nature, Charming in his every feature; Damon lived alone for me; Melting kisses,

Murmuring blisses;

Who so lived and lov'd as we!'

'Never shall we curse the morning,
Never bless the night returning,
Sweet embraces to restore:
Never shall we both lie dying,
Nature failing, love supplying
All the joys he drain'd before:
Death come end me

To befriend me;

Love and Damon are no more.'

SONG.

SYLVIA the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,
Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green;
She had heard of a pleasure, and something she
guess'd

By the towzing, and tumbling, and touching her breast:

She saw the men eager, but was at a loss

What they meant by their sighing, and kissing so close:

By their praying and whining,

And clasping and twining,

And panting and wishing,

And sighing and kissing,

And sighing and kissing so close.

Ah! she cried; ah, for a languishing maid,
In a country of Christians, to die without aid!
Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Protestant parson, or Catholic priest,
To instruct a young virgin that is at a loss [close!
What they mean by their sighing, and kissing so

By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,

And sighing and kissing so close.

Cupid in shape of a swain did appear;

He saw the sad wound, and in pity drew near; Then show'd her his arrow, and bid her not fear, For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear: When the balm was infused, she was not at a loss, What they meant by their sighing, and kissing so By their praying and whining, [close:

And clasping and twining,

And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,

And sighing and kissing so close,

THE LADIES' SONG.

A CHOIR of bright beauties in spring did appear,
To choose a May-lady to govern the year;
All the nymphs were in white, and the shepherds

in green;

The garland was given, and Phillis was queen: But Phillis refused it, and sighing, did say, 'I'll not wear a garland while Pan is away.'

"While Pan and fair Syrinx are fled from our shore, The Graces are banish'd, and Love is no more; The soft god of Pleasure, that warm'd our desires, Has broken his bow, and extinguish'd his fires; And vows that himself and his mother will mourn, Till Pan and fair Syrinx in triumph return.

Forbear your addresses, and court us no more, For we will perform what the deity swore; But if you dare think of deserving our charms, Away with your sheephooks, and take to your arms: Then laurels and myrtles your brows shall adorn, When Pan and his son, and fair Syrinx, return.'

SONG.

FAIR, sweet, and young, receive a prize
Reserved for your victorious eyes:
From crowds, whom at your feet you see,
O pity, and distinguish me;

As I, from thousand beauties more,
Distinguish you, and only you adore.
Your face for conquest was design'd;
Your every motion charms my mind;
Angels, when you your silence break,
Forget their hymns to hear you speak;
But when, at once, they hear and view,
Are loth to mount, and long to stay with you.
No graces can your form improve,
But all are lost unless you love;
While that sweet passion you disdain,
Your veil and beauty are in vain :

In pity then prevent my fate,

For after dying all reprieve's too late.

HIGH state and honours to others impart,

But give me your heart:

That treasure, that treasure alone,

I beg for my own.

So gentle a love, so fervent a fire,
My soul does inspire;

That treasure, that treasure alone,
1 beg for my own.
Your love let me crave;
Give me in possessing

So matchless a blessing;
That empire is all I would have.
Love's my petition,
All my ambition;
If e'er you discover
So faithful a lover,
So real a flame,
I'll die, I'll die;
So give up my game.

RONDELAY.

CHLOE found Amyntas lying,
All in tears, upon the plain;
Sighing to himself, and crying,

Wretched I, to love in vain!

Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain !'

Sighing to himself, and crying,
'Wretched I, to love in vain!
Ever scorning, and denying

To reward your faithful swain: Kiss me, dear, before my dying; Kiss me once, and ease my pain!'