ZELINDA gives me perfect joys;
Then cease thy fond intrufion;
Be filent; mufic now is noife,
Variety, confufion.

W

HEN SAPPHO tun'd the raptur'd ftrain
The liftning wretch forgot his pain;

With art divine the lyre she ftrung,
Like thee fhe play'd, like thee fhe fung.

For while fhe ftruck the quiv'ring wire
The
eager breaft was all on fire ;
And when the join'd the vocal lay

The captive foul

was charm'd away.

But had she added still to these
Thy fofter, chafter, power to please ;'
Thy beauteous air of fprightly youth,
Thy native fmiles of artless truth ;

She

She ne'er had pin'd beneath disdain,
She ne'er had play'd and sung in vain ;
Despair had ne'er her foul poffeft

To dafh on rocks the tender breast.

SMOLLETT.

O plaintive founds! and to the fair

Go

My fecret wounds impart,

Tell all I hope, tell all I fear,
Each motion in my heart.

But fhe, methinks, is lift'ning now
To fome enchanting strain ;

The smile that triumphs o'er her brow

Seems not to heed my pain.

Yes, plaintive founds! yet, yet delay,

Howe'er my love repine;

Let that gay minute pafs away,

The next perhaps is thine.

Yes,

Yes, plaintive founds! no longer croft,
Your grief fhall foon be o'er;

Her cheek, undimpled now, has loft
The smile it lately wore.

Yes, plaintive founds! fhe now is yours, 'Tis now your time to move;

Effay to foften all her powers,
And be that foftness, love.

Ceafe, plaintive founds! your task is done;

That anxious tender air

Proves o'er her heart the conqueft won;
I fee you melting there.

Return, ye fmiles, return again,
Return each sprightly grace;

I yield up to your charming reign
All that enchanting face.

I take no outward fhew amifs,
Rove where you will, her yes;

Still let her fmiles each fhepherd bless,
So fhe but hear my fighs.

HAMILTON.

WHEN charming TERAMINTA fings,

Each new air new paffion brings;

Now I refolve, and now I fear;

Now I triumph, now despair;

Frolic now, now faint I grow ;
Now I freeze, and now I glow.
The panting zephyrs round her play,
And trembling on her lips would stay;

Now would liften, now would kiss
Trembling with divided blifs;

Till, by her breath repuls'd, they fly,
And in low pleafing murmurs die.
Nor do I ask that she would give
By fome new note, the pow'r to live;
I would, expiring with the found,
Die on the lips that gave the wound.

Y dear mistress has a heart,

MY

Soft as thofe kind looks she gave me,

When with love's refiftless art,

And her eyes, she did enflave me : But her conftancy's fo weak,

She's fo wild and apt to wander, That my jealous heart would break Should we live one day afunder.

Melting joys about her move,
Wounding pleasures, killing bliffes,

She can drefs her eyes in love,

And her lips can arm with kiffes; Angels liften when she speaks,

She's my delight, all mankind's wonder,

But my jealous heart would break

Should we live one day afunder.

ROCHESTER,

K