""Tis true," said I; and thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts a union:

But, on a sudden, all was gone.

With that I stopt: said love," These be, "Fond man, resemblances of thee;

And, as these flowers, thy joys shall die, "Ev'n in the twinkling of an eye:

"And all thy hopes of her shall wither "Like those short sweets thus knit together."

SONG.

Good Counsel to a Young Maid.

GAZE not on thy beauty's pride,
Tender maid, in the false tide

That from thy lover's eyes doth glide.

Let thy faithful chrystal show

How thy colours come and

go:

Beauty takes a foil from woe.

Love, that in those smooth streams lies,

Under pity's fair disguise,

Will thy melting heart surprise.

Nets, of passion's finest thread,
Snaring poems will be spread,

All to catch thy maidenhead.

Then, beware! for those that cure

Love's disease, themselves endure
For reward a calenture.

Rather let the lover pine,

Than his pale cheek should assign
A perpetual blush to thine.

BOLDNESS IN LOVE.

MARK how the bashful morn in vain
Courts the amorous marigold
With sighing blasts, and weeping rain,
Yet she refuses to unfold.

But, when the planet of the day
Approacheth with his powerful ray,
Then she spreads, then she receives
His warmer beams into her virgin leaves.

So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy!
If thy tears and sighs discover
Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy

The just reward of a bold lover.

But, when with moving accents, thou
Shalt constant faith and service vow,
Thy Celia shall receive those charms
With open ears, and with unfolded arms.

UNGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED.

KNOW, Celia (since thou art so proud) "Twas I that gave thee thy renown; Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd

Of common beauties, liv'd unknown, Had not my verse exhal'd thy name, And with it impt the wings of fame.

That killing power is none of thine,
I gave it to thy voice and eyes;
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies: Then dart not from thy borrow'd sphere Lightning on him that fix'd thee there.

Tempt me with such affrights no more,
Lest what I made I uncreate,
Let fools thy mystic forms adore,
I'll know thee in thy mortal state.

DIALOGUE.

[From a MS. in the possession of Mr. Malone.]

TELL me, Utrechia, since my fate,

And thy more powerful form, decrees

My heart an immolation at thy shrine,
Where I am only to incline-

How I must love, and at what rate;

By what despairs, and what degrees,

I may, my hopes enlarge, or my desires confine?

"First, when thy flames begin,

"See they burn all within;

"And so, as lookers-on may not descry "Smoke in a sigh, or sparkles in an eye.

"I would have had my love a good while there, "Ere thine own heart had been aware:

"And I myself would chuse to know it,

"First, by thy care and cunning not to show it."

When my love is, your own way, thus betray'd, Must it still be afraid?

May it not be sharp-sighted then, as well,

And see, you know, that which it durst not tell,

And, from that knowledge, hope it may

Tell itself a louder way?

"Let it alone awhile:

"And so, thou may'st beguile

"My heart, perhaps, to a consent

"Long ere it meant.

"For whilst I dare not disapprove,

"Lest I betray a knowledge of thy love, “I shall be so accustom'd to allow,

"That I shall scarce know how

"To be displeas'd, when thou shalt it avow."

When, by love's powerful sympathy,

Our souls are got thus nigh,

And that, by one another seen,

They need no breath to go between,

Though, in the main agreement of our breasts, Only our hearts subscribe as interests;

Yet, it shall need

Our tongues sign too, as witness to the deed.

Speak then: but when you whisper out the tale

"Of what you ail,

"Let it be so disorder'd, that I may

"Guess, only thence, what you would say.