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Now they charge on amain,
Now they rally again :
The fainting Saxons quit their ground,
Now the victory 's won,
To the plunder we run: We return to our lasses like fortunate traders, 15 Triumphant with spoils of the vanquish'd invaders.
Oh sight, the mother of desires,
'Tis sweet, when tedious night expires, To see the rosy morning gild
The mountain-tops, and paint the field !
When fair Clarinda comes in sight, &c.
WOMAN SINGS. 'Tis sweet the blushing morn to view; And plains adorn’d with pearly dew:
But such cheap delights to see,
Heaven and nature
Give each creature ;
To see, to see,
That only she,
This is the joy, all joys above, &c.
Two daughters of this aged stream are we;
YE blustering brethren of the skies,
Whose breath has ruffled all the watery plain, Retire, and let Britannia rise,
In triumph o'er the main.
Serene and calm, and void of fear,
For folded flocks on fruitful plains,
Fair Britain all the world outvies;
Where pleasure mix'd with profit lies.
Though Jason's fleece was fam'd of old,
No mines can more of wealth supply;
And takes for kings the Tyrian dye.
FAIREst isle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasures and of loves;
Venus here will choose her dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian groves.
Cupid from his favourite nation
Care and envy will remove; Jealousy, that poisons passion,
And despair, that dies for love.
Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining,
Sighs, that blow the fire of love ; Soft repulses, kind disdaining,
Shall be all the pains you prove.
Every swain shall pay his duty,
Grateful every nymph shall prove; And as these excel in beauty,
Those shall be renown'd for love.
SONG OF JEALOUSY, IN LOVE TRIUMPHANT.
WHAT state of life can be so blest
'Tis all from thee,
All other ills, though sharp they prove,
False in thy glass all objects are,