A heart whose flames are seen, tho' pure, Needs every virtue's aid; STREPHON has fashion, wit and youth, But he is flint, and bears the art His power inflames another's heart, O! how it does my soul perplex, To think he should despise the sex, Finding no hope to fix its love, Returns into my breast. MRS. TAYLOR, WHEN clouds that angel face deform, Anxious I view the coming storm : But when soft passions rule your breast, I bless the hour when first I knew THEOPH. SWIFT. CUPID, forbear thy childish arts; On me would harmless prove. N 2 ERMO YAOTANA In vain, fond boy, MIRANDA's eyes Thy CHLOE's dimpled cheeks adorn With gay bewitching smiles; I I laugh at all her wanton scorn, eve And triumph o'er her wiles. The snowy neck, the slender waist, The ruby lip with moisture graced, I view without a vow. Should thy bright mother, beauty's queen, To slight her proffer'd charms. This bold defiance STREPHON sends; We are not foes, we are not friends: 181 AMATORY SONGS. + ? FICKLE bliss, fantastic treasure, Love, how soon thy joys are past! Since we soon must lose the pleasure, Oh, 't were better ne'er to taste! Gods! how sweet would be possessing, Cruel thoughts, that pain yet please me, Gods! what kind yet cruel powers Too too soon to fade design'd. ON ON BELVIDERA's bosom lying, But she, alas! unkindly wise, Her lover's fondness to improve ; A. PHILLIPS, BOAST not, mistaken swain, thy art The charms that have subdued my heart Thy |