D

ULCIBELLA whene'er I fue for a kifs, Refufing the blifs, crys, no, no, no, no, Leave me, Alexis, ah! what wou'd you do? When I tell her I'll go, ftill the crys no, no, no; No, no, my Alexis, ah! tell me not fo.

Tell me, fair one, tell me why, Why fo coming, why fo fhy: Why fo kind, and why fo coy: Tell me, fair one, tell me why You'll neither let me fight nor fly. Tell me, fair one, tell me why You'll neither let me live nor die,

L

UCINDA is bewitching fair,
All o'er ingaging is her air;
In every fong Lucinda's fam'd,

She is the queen of love proclaim'd;
To all fhe does a flame impart,
Expiring victims feel her dart:
Strephon for her has love expreft,
Philander fighs too with the reft;
Rack'd with defpair, each one complains;
Unmov'd, untouch'd, fhe all difdains.

P

HILLIS, whofe heart was unconfin'd,
And free as flowers on meads and plains;
None boasted of her being kind,

'Mongst all the languishing and amorous fwaius:
No fighs nor tears the nymph cou'd move
To pity, or return their love.

Till on a time the hapless maid
Retir'd, to fhun the heat o'th' day,
Into a grove, beneath whose shade

Strephon, the careless fhepherd, fleeping lay:
But, oh, fuch charms the youth adorn,
Love is reveng'd for all her fcorn.

Her cheeks with blufhes cover'd were,
And tender fighs her bofom warm;
A foftnels in her eyes appear,

Unusual pains the feels from every charm:
To woods and echoes now the cries;
For modefty to speak denies.

A

H! Charmion, fhroud those killing eyes,

That dart th' extremes of pleafure;

Elfe Celadon, tho' favour'd, dies,

As well as him whom you despise;

Tho' in this different measure:
While he with lingring pains drags on his fate,
Difpatch is all th' advantage of my state:
For, oh! you kill with love, as well as hate.

Abate thy luxury of charms,

And only part discover:

Thy tongue, as well as eyes, hath charms
To do a thoufand fatal harms,

To the poor lift'ning lover.
Thy glories fhou'd like heaven's be
Conceal'd beneath the veil of mystery;

For to behold them in full force we die."

I

SEE fhe flies me every where,

Her eyes her fcorn difcover;

But what's her fcorn, or my defpair,

Since 'tis my fate to love her?

Were fhe but kind whom I adore,

I might live longer, but not love her more.

A mad

He.

B

A mad Dialogue.

EHOLD the man that with gigantick might
Dares combat heaven again,

Storm Jove's bright palace, put the gods to flight,
Chaos renew, and make perpetual night;

Come on, ye fighting fools, that petty jars
(maintain,
I've all the wars of Europe in my brain.

She. Who's he that talks of war

When beauty does come in?

Whofe fweet face, divinely fair,
Eternal pleasures bring:
When I appear, the martial god
A conquer'd victim lies,

Öbeys each glance, each awful nod,

And dreads the lightning of my killing eyes

More than the fierceft thunder in the skies.

He. Ha, ha, ha! now, now, we mount up high,
The fun's bright god and I

Charge on the azure dawns of ample sky;
See, see how th' immortal spirits run;
Purfue, purfue, drive 'em o'er the burning zone;
From thence come rowling, rowling down,
And fearch the globe below with all the gulphy main,
To find my loft, my wandring fense again."

She:

I

She. By the disjointed matter

That crouds thy pericranium,

I nicely have found, that thy brain is not found,
And thou fhalt be my companion.

He. Come let us plague the world then,
I embrace the bleft occasion;

For by instinct I find, thou art one of the kind
That firft brought in damnation.

Chorus. Then mad, very mad, very mad, let us be,
For Europe does now with our frenzy agree,
And all things in nature are mad too as we.

She. My face has heaven inchanted,

With all the sky-born fellows:

(kifs'd,

Jove prefs'd to my breaft, and my bofom he
Which made old Juno jealous.

He. I challeng'd grifly Pluto,

But the god of fire did fhun me;

(club,

Witty Hermes I drubb'd round the pole with my

For breaking jokes upon me.

Then mad, &c.

She. I found Apollo finging;

The tune my rage encreases;

I made him fo blind, with a look that was kind,
That he broke his lyre to pieces.

He I drank a health to Venus,

And the mould on her white fhoulder ;

"

Mars flinch'd at the glafs, and I threw't in his face i
Was ever hero, bolder ?

Ske