Pleased Hob unfolds his flocks, and, whilst they

feed,

Sits and makes music on his oaten reed:

Then I wake too, and viewing Lesbia's charms

Do glut myself with pleasure in her arms.

I

By JOHN SHEFFIELD, DUKE

OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.

INCONSTANCY EXCUSED.

MUST confess I am untrue

To Gloriana's eyes;

But he that's smiled upon by you

Must all the world despise.

In winter fires of little worth

Excite our dull desire;

But when the sun breaks kindly forth

Those fainter flames expire.

Then blame me not for slighting now

What I did once adore:

O do but this one change allow,

And I can change no more;

Fixt by your never-failing charms
Till I with age decay,

Till languishing within your arms
I sigh my soul away.

By JOHN SHEFFIELD, DUKE
OF BUCKINGhamshire.

'OME, Celia, let's agree at last

To love and live in quiet;

Let's tie the knot so very fast

That time shall ne'er untie it. Love's dearest joys they never prove, Who free from quarrels live;

'Tis sure a godlike part of love

Each other to forgive.

When least I seemed concerned I took

No pleasure, nor had rest;

And when I feigned an angry look,

Alas! I loved you best.

Say but the same to me, you'll find

How blest will be our fate; Sure to be grateful, to be kind, Can never be too late.

By WILLIAM CONGREVE.

ELL me no more I am deceived,

TEL

That Chloe's false and common; By Heaven! I all along believed

She was a very woman;

As such I liked, as such caressed,
She still was constant,-when possessed:
She could do more for no man.

But oh! her thoughts on others ran,
And that you think a hard thing?
Perhaps she fancied you the man?

Why, what care I one farthing?
You think she's false, I'm sure she's kind,
I'll take her body, you her mind :

Who has the better bargain?

P

By WILLIAM CONGREVE.

OUS Selinda' goes to prayers

ριους

If I but ask the favour;

And yet the tender fool's in tears

When she believes I'll leave her.

Would I were free from this restraint,
Or else had hopes to win her;
Would she could make of me a saint,

Or I of her a sinner!

By WILLIAM CONGREVE.

AIR Amoret is gone astray,

FALL

Pursue and seek her every lover;

I'll tell the signs by which you may

The wand'ring shepherdess discover.

Coquet and coy at once her air,

Both studied, tho' both seem neglected; Careless she is with artful care,

Affecting to seem unaffected.

1 Mrs. Bracegirdle.

With skill her eyes dart ev'ry glance,

Yet change so soon you'd ne'er suspect 'em; For she'd persuade they wound by chance,

Tho' certain aim and art direct 'em.

She likes herself, yet others hates

For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.

From JOHN WILSON'S Belphe

gor, 1690.

ERE I to take wife,

WER

As 'tis for my life,

She should be brisk, pleasant, and merry;

A lovely fine brown,

A face all her own,

With a lip red and round as a cherry.

Not much of the wise,

Less of the precise,

Nor over-reserved, nor yet flying;

Hard breasts, a straight back,

An eye full and black,

But languishing as she were dying.