REE from the tumults and the noife, FRE Which haunt the busy town; Serene delights, and quiet joys, Our sweet retirements crown. Whilft others minds are rack'd with care, We laugh at all the little arts Of Venus and her trifling boy, Nor can that idle god of hearts The foft repose of ours deftroy Secure within our cage we lie, And sweetly pass the hours away; Whilft birds and maids, that loosely fly, To hawks and men become a prey. FOOLISH OOL LISH women, fly mens charms, Men with pleasure foon are cloy'd, When that you them overpower, Then falfe men you may abuse. YRTILLA, like time, is always a flying, Mshe minds not my tears, and regards not my (fighing; Every minute fhe fhuns me, and in vain I complain, For no prayers nor vows can recall her again. My friend, be advis'd; for Time as you know, IF I F love fuch a paffion as mine Wou'd kindle in Celia's breast, Her heart wou'd infpire, No mortal cou'd then be more bleft. We two in a defart alone, Defpifing the world and its care, Then those who are happiest there. If miffing my Celia by chance, Thro' the woods I had fought her in vain, The complaints of my love, By the birds of the grove, Shou'd be carry'd to Celia again. And pleas'd with my languishing voice, They fhou'd eccho my words through the air: Was my only delight, And her abfence my only defpair. All the heat of the day in a fhade To my Celia I'd talk, And have her all night in my arms. But, But, alas! while I thus entertain Myfelf with the thoughts of my fair, She I fancy fo kind, May be falfe as the wind, Inconftant and light as the air. FIE Celia, fcorn the little arts Which meaner beauties ufe, Who think they can't fecure our hearts, Are coy, and shy, will feem to frown, Come let's not trifle time away, Or ftop you know not why; Ah! Celia, when the joys are known, IF I F any fo wife is, That fack he defpifes, Let him drink his finall beer and be fober, Whilft we drink wine and fing, As if it were fpring, He fhall droop like the trees in October. But be fure, over-night If this dog do you bite, You take it henceforth for a warning, Soon as out of bed, To fettle your head, Take a hair of his tail in the morning. And be not fo filly, To follow old Lilly, For there's nothing but wine that can tune us; |