But if the kind flood on a wave should convey, And under your window my body should lay, The wound on my breast when you happen to see, You'll say with a sigh—it was given by me. THE LADY'S SONG. A CHOIR of bright beauties in spring did appear, The garland was given, and Phyllis was queen: 5 require copying here. But the following ludicrous stanza, which I have seen in MS. and which is a coeval parody on Dryden's Song to Armida, deserves to be cited: 'Or if the king please that I may, at his charge, I hope to come floating up with the spring tyde.' Armida is said to have been the beautiful Frances Stuart, wife of Charles, Duke of Richmond. Captain Digby was killed at sea in the engagement between the English and the Dutch fleet, off Southwold Bay, in 1672. T. 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: 10 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, SONG. FAIR, Sweet, and young, receive a prize As I from thousand beauties more Your face for conquest was design'd, 10 But when at once they hear and view, Are loth to mount, and long to stay with you. No graces can your form improve, For after dying all reprieve's too late. 15 SONG. 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, Your love let me crave; So matchless a blessing; All my ambition; So faithful a lover, So real a flame, I'll die, I'll die, So give up my game. SONG. Go tell Amynta, gentle swain, The gods ordain this kind relief; 5 What dying lovers dare not say. A sigh or tear, perhaps, she'll give, But love on pity cannot live. 10 Tell her that hearts for hearts were made, And love with love is only paid. Tell her my pains so fast increase, That soon they will be past redress; 15 SONG TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY, GOING OUT OF THE TOWN IN THE SPRING. ASK not the cause, why sullen Spring And winter storms invert the year Chloris is gone, the cruel fair; She cast not back a pitying eye; To sigh, to languish, and to die: Great god of love, why hast thou made And change the laws of every land? When Chloris to the temple comes, Adoring crowds before her fall: I only am by love design'd 5 10 15 20 |