And she that hears thy voice, and sees thy eyes, With too much pleasure, too much softness dies.

Cease, cease, with sighs to warm my soul,
Or press me with thy hand:

Who can the kindling fire control,

The tender force withstand?

Thy sighs and touches like wing'd lightning fly, And are the God of Love's artillery.

Scotch Song.

When Jemmy first began to love,
He was the gayest swain,
That ever yet a flock had drove,

Or danc'd upon the plain.

"Twas then that I, weys me poor heart,

My freedom threw away;

And finding sweets in every smart,

I could not say him nay.

And ever when he talk'd of love,
He would his eyes decline;
And every sigh a heart would move,

Gued faith, and why not mine?

He'd press my hand, and kiss it oft,
In silence spoke his flame,
And whilst he treated me thus soft,
I wish'd him more to blame.

Sometimes to feed my flocks with him
My Jemmy would invite me;
Where he the gayest songs would sing,
On purpose to delight me:
And Jemmy every grace display'd,
Which were enough, I trow,
To conquer any princely maid;

So did he me, I vow.

But now for Jemmy must I mourn,
Who to the wars must go;

His sheep-hook to a sword must turn ;
Alack, what shall I do?

His bag-pipe into warlike sounds

Must now exchanged be;

Instead of bracelets, fearful wounds;

Then what becomes of me?

SONG.

DAMON, I cannot blame your will,
"Twas chance, and not design, did kill;
For whilst you did prepare your charms,
On purpose Sylvia to subdue,

I met the arrows as they flew,

And sav'd her from their harms.

Alas! she cannot make returns,
Who for a swain already burns,

A shepherd whom she does caress,
With all the softest marks of love;
And 'tis in vain thou seek'st to move
. The cruel shepherdess.

Content thee with this victory,

Think me as fair and young as she :

I'll make thee garlands all the day,

And in the groves we'll sit and sing;
I'll crown thee with the pride o' the spring
When thou art lord of May.

SONG.

How strongly does my passion flow,
Divided equally 'twixt two?

Damon had ne'er subdu'd my heart,

Had not Alexis took his part;
Nor could Alexis powerful prove,
Without my Damon's aid, to gain my love.

When my Alexis present is,

Then I for Damon sigh and mourn;

But when Alexis I do miss,

Damon gains nothing but my scorn.

But if it chance they both are by,
For both alike I languish, sigh, and die.

Cure then, thou mighty winged God,
This restless fever in my blood;
One golden-pointed dart take back:
But which, O Cupid, wilt thou take?
If Damon, all my hopes are crost;
Or that of my Alexis, I am lost.

SONG.

As wretched, vain, and indiscreet,
Those matches I deplore,

Whose bartering friends in council meet
To huddle in a wedding sheet

Some miserable pair that never met before.

Poor love of no account must be,

Tho' ne'er so fix'd and true :

No merit but in gold they see;

So portion and estate agree,

No matter what the bride and bridegroom do.

Curs'd may all covetous husbands be,

That wed with such design,

And curs'd they are; for while they ply

Their wealth, some lover by the by

Reaps the true bliss, and digs the richer mine.

SONG.

In vain does Hymen with religious vows
Oblige his slaves to wear his chains with ease,
A privilege alone that Love allows;

"Tis Love alone can make our fetters please.