Thus as kingdoms, frustrating
Other titles to their crown,
In the cradle crown their king,
So all foreign claims to drown:
So, to make all rivals vain,
Now I crown thee with my love:
Crown me with thy love again,
And we both fhall monarchs prove.
T ALK, Strephon, no more of what's honeft and just,
For friendship is interest, and love is but luft;
To the purfe, and no farther, the one does extend,
And after enjoyment your love's at an end."
Then no longer maintain what your actions deny,
Your oft-broken vows your affertions belye:
When I once fee your words with your actions agree,
I'll believe you the man that
you now feem to be.
That you once have deceiv'd me I do not complain,
But 'tis my own fault if you cheat me again;
For none will the fate of that pilot deplore,
Who wrecks on that fhelf where he ftranded before.
Is it not madness thus to be
I Coy, and your minutes wafte;
To let the world be envying me
Pleasures I ne'er did taste?
Since this foul scandal we have got,
Confent, and yield, for shame;
For all your virtue now will not
Patch up your broken fame.
Why fhou'd our blifs then be delay'd?
The world can say no more
Than what it has already faid;
And that is, thou'rt a whore.
REEDOM, thou greatest blessing.
Why have I loft thy joys;
Pining, no reft poffeffing,
Grief all my hours employs.
Thy lofs now to my eyes,
A flood of tears will coft;
Ah, why do we not prize
Our treasure till 'tis loft!
LOVE, and am belov'd again,
Strephon no more shall figh in vain;
I've try'd his faith, and found him true,
And all my coyness bid adieu.
2. I love, and am belov'd again,
Yet ftill my Thirfis fhall complain;
I'm fure he's mine, while I refuse him;
But when I yield, I fear to lofe him.
1. Men will grow faint with tedious fasting.
2. And both will tire with often tasting,
When they find the bliss not lafting.
1. Love is compleat in kind poffeffing.
2. Ah no! ah no! that ends the bleffing.
Both. Then let us beware how far we confent,
Too foon when we yield, too late we repent;
"Tis ignorance makes men admire:
And granting defire,
We feed not the fire,
But make it more quickly expire.
BRITONTON
EAR me, ye nymphs, and every fwain,,
H'I'll tell how Peggy grieves me;
Tho' thus I languish, thus complain,
Alas! fhe ne'er believes me.
My vows and fighs, like filent air,
Unheeded, never move her;
At the bony-bush aboon-Traquair,
"Twas there I first did love her.
That day fhe fmil'd and made me glad,
No maid feem'd ever kinder,
I thought myself the luckiest lad,
So fweetly there to find her.
I try'd to footh my am'rous flame,
In words that I thought tender;
If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame,
I meant not to offend her.
Yet now the scornful flies the plain,
The fields we then frequented;
If e'er we meet, she shews difdain,
She looks as ne'er acquainted.
The bonny-bush bloom'd fair in May.
Its fweets I'll aye remember;
But now her frowns make it decay,
fades, as in December.
Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,
Why thus fhou'd Peggy grieve me?
Oh! make her partner in my pains;
Then let her fmiles relieve me.
If not, my love will turn despair,
My paffion no more tender;
I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair,
To lonely wilds I'll wander.
o, ye soft notes, and gently wake the fair,
That now diffolv'd in easy slumbers lies;
While wakeful thoughts, and love's perplexing care,
Permit no reft to dwell on Cleon's eyes.
Now, while the day's forgot, and calm her breaft,
Try all
charms the cruel maid to move;
your
Now that her pride, and her disdain's at rest,
Poffefs her ears, and win her heart to love.
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