Mais en l'instruisant comme on aime
Que j'aimois à voir ses progrès!
Le plaisir d'être instruit moi-même
Avoit eu pour moi moins d'attraits.

Ismène eut toute ma tendresse,
Et mon élève à mes regards
Fut plus chère que ma maitresse ;
C'en est ainsi dans tous les arts.

Pourquoi soupirez vous, chamante Celimène ?
Vous qui causez aux cœurs des sensibiles tourments?
Ah! si je soulageois une si rude peine,

Je guerirois aussi des maux que je ressens.

Quand tu vois soupirer la triste Celimène

C'est que l'amour la livre aux sensibles tourmentsi Ah! s'il m'étoit permis de soulager ta peine,

Je guerirois aussi des maux que je ressens.

INGENIOUS AND WITTY

SONGS.

2

[PHILLIPS.]

ON Belvidera's bosom lying,
Wishing, panting, sighing, dying
The cold regardless maid to move
With unavailing prayers I sue;
You first have taught me how to love,
Ah! teach me to be happy too.

But she, alas! unkindly wise,
To all my sighs and tears replies,
'Tis every prudent maid's concern

Her lover's fondness to improve;
If to be happy you should learn,

You quickly would forget to love.

BOAST

[PHILLIPS.]

ST not mistaken swain, thy art To please my partial eyes;

The charms that have subdued my heart Another may despise.

Thy face is to my humour made,

Another it may fright;

Perhaps, by some fond whim betray'd,

In oddness I delight.

Vain youth, to your confusion know 'Tis to my love's excess

You all your fancied beauties owe,

Which fade as that

grows less.

For your own sake, if not for mine,
You should preserve my fire,

Since you, my swain, no more will shine,
When I no more admire.

By me indeed you are allow'd
The wonder of your kind;"
But be not of my judgment proud
Whom love has render'd blind.

[ADDISON.]

My love was fickle once and changing,
Nor e'er would settle in my heart,
From beauty still to beauty ranging,
face I found a dart.

In

every

'Twas first a charming shape enslav'd me, An eye then gave the fatal stroke; Till by her wit Corinna sav'd me,

And all my former fetters broke.

But now a long and lasting anguish
For Belvidera I endure;

Hourly I sigh, and hourly languish,

Nor hope to find the wonted cure.

For here the false inconstant lover
After a thousand beauties shown,
Does new surprising charms discover,
And finds variety in one.