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INGENIOUS AND WITTY

SONGS.

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[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.

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[PHILLIPS.]

BOAST 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; ve

But be not of my judgment proud
Whom love has render'd blind.

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[ADDISON.]

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

'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.

The passion from beauty first drawn
Your kindness will vastly improve;
Soft looks and gay smiles are the dawn,
Fruition's the sunshine of love:
And though the bright beams of your eyes,
Should be clouded, that now are so gay,
And darkness obscure all the skies,
We ne'er can forget it was day.

Old Darby with Joan by his side

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You oft have regarded with wonder;

He is dropsical, she is sore-ey'd,
Yet they're ever uneasy asunder;
Together they totter about

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And sit in the sun at the door, And at night when old Darby's pot's out, His Joan will not smoke a whiff more.

No beauty or wit they possess

Their several failings to smother, Then what are the charms, can you guess, That make them so fond of each other? 'Tis the pleasing remembrance of youth, The endearments that love did bestow, The thoughts of past pleasure and truth, The best of all blessings below.

These traces for ever will last

Which sickness nor time can remove;
For when youth and beauty are past,
And age brings the winter of love,
A friendship insensibly grows,
By reviews of such raptures as these,
And the current of fondness still flows

Which decrepid old age cannot freeze.

[GILBERT COOPER.]

Away, let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move thy fear,
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy care.

What tho' no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood, We'll shine in more substantial honours, And to be noble we'll be good.

What tho' from fortune's lavish bounty No mighty treasures we possess, We'll find within our pittance plenty, And be content without excess.

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