When in the crowd yours undistinguish'd lies, For to my state the hopes of common peace, Which every wretch enjoys in death, muft cease, LOVE bid me hope, and I obey'd; Phillis continued ftill unkind : Then you may e'en defpair, he faid, . II. Honour's got in, and keeps her heart, In my own right I'd take your part, This huffing Honour domineers In breafts, where he alone has place : But if true generous Love appears, The hector dares not fhew his face. IV. Let IV.. Let me ftill languish and complain, I have fome pleasure in my pain, V. I fall a facrifice to Love, She lives a wretch for Honour's fake. Whofe tyrant does most cruel prove, The difference is not hard to make. VI. Confider Real Honour then, You'll find hers cannot be the fame; 'Tis noble confidence in men, In women mean mistrustful shame. GRECIAN KINDNESS. A SON G. I. HE utmoft grace the Greeks could fhew, Then to the Trojans they grew kind, Was with their arms to let them go, And leave their lingering wives behind. They beat the men, and burnt the town; Then all the baggage was their own. II. There the kind deity of wine' Kifs'd the foft wanton god of love; This clapp'd his wings, that prefs'd his vine; While each brave Greek embrac'd his punk, grew drunk. THE MISTRESS. A SO N'G. I. AN age, in her embraces paft, Would seem a winter's day; Where life and light, with envious hafte, Are torn and fnatch'd II. away. But, oh! how flowly minutes roll, That fed my love, which is my foul, III. For then, no more a foul but shade, It mournfully does move; And haunts my breaft, by abfence made The living tomb of love. IV. You wifer men despise me not; Whofe love-fick fancy raves, On fhades of fouls, and heaven knows what : Short ages live in graves. V. Whene'er V. Whene'er those wounding eyes, so full Of sweetness you did see, Had you not been profoundly dull, VI. Nor cenfure us, you who perceive VII. Alas! 'tis facred jealoufy, Love rais'd to an extreme; The only proof, 'twixt them and me, VIII. Fantastic fancies fondly move, And in frail joys believe: Taking falfe pleasure for true love; But pain can ne'er deceive. IX. Kind jealous doubts, tormenting fears, ABSENT from thee I languish ftill; Then ask me not, When I return ?, The ftraying fool 't will plainly kill, II.. Dear, from thine arms then let me fly, That tears my fix'd heart from my love. When wearied with a world of woe To thy fafe bofom I retire, Where love, and peace, and truth, does flow, May I contented there expire! : IV. Left, once more wandering from that heaven, Faithlefs to thee, falfe, unforgiven, A S ON G. I. PHILLIS, be gentler, I advise, When beauty on its death-bed lies, 'Tis high time to repent. II. Such |