COLIN

In Words like these to Her thy Love impart,

If once the gives an Ear, she'll give her Heart. Mean time with quicker Pace to Business move;

THE NO T

At least if Business can agree with Love,

To LESBIA, out of CATULLUS.

HOME, dearest Lesbia, Heav'nly Fair,

COME,

Let Life and Love be all our Care:

Come, let's be happy, let's be bold,
Nor heed the Cenfures of the old.

When Phebus falling leaves the Skies,
He only falls again to rife:

But when our fhort-liv'd Course is o'er,

We fall, alas! to rife no more,

If

If now, my Fair, we balk Delight,
We're loft in everlasting Night.
Give then, a thousand Kiffes give;

"Tis thus to love, 'tis thus to live;
Another, and another lend,

O kifs me, kifs me without End.

'Tis fit, my Lesbia, none should know
To what Account our Bleffings grow;
'Tis happy, if our felves confefs,
Our darling Joys are numberlefs,

An O D E.

I.

HE comes! fhe comes! now pants my Heart,

SH

Now tremble I in every Part,

Now feel I trill a pleasing Pain

Thro' every Nerve, thro' every Vein.

Now

II.

Now am I delug'd with Surprize,

O'erwhelm'd my Brain, o'ercast my Eyes;

Alarm and Wonder o'er me rowl,

And turn to Ecftafie my Soul.

III.

What Rays of Beauty round her play,

And kindle up a sprightlier Day!

What Beams of Virtue all confest

Send more than Sun-fhine thro' my Breast!

IV.

Hark, hark; how fweetly speaks my Dear!

O hear, my Ears, for ever hear:

See, fee what Smiles her Looks imblaze!
O gaze, my Eyes, for ever gaze.

V.

Still near Thee, Charmer, let me flay,

And look and hear my Life away;

On

On Thee attend, with Thee abide,

And, where my Heart refides, refide.

VI.

Of Freedom now no more I boast,

Enamour'd, vanquish'd, captive, lost;

I figh, I burn, I faint, I fall,

Who took'st my Heart, O take me All.

To Mr. FENTON, on his Tragedy of Mariamne.

A

CCEPT, great Bard, the Tribute of my [Praife;

Tho' tuneless be my Voice, and rude my [Lays:

With thy ambrofial Banquet, Heav'nly Food! My Soul replete, breaks forth in Gratitude: How ardent are the Transports which I feel! Nor Words can paint them, nor my Heart conceal. Where-e'er thy fruitful Genius leads the Way, My Paffions, of thy Guidance proud, obey;

From

From Grief to Joy, from Rage to tender Love,

In exquifite Variety I rove.

Now I am rapt into the gloomy Glade,

Where flits before my Eyes the Princely Shade;
Perfeus I fee, from Regal Grandeur toft,
And all the Macedonian Glories loft.

With bright Arfinoe's Joys my Soul dilates,
- When Conftancy fubdues her adverse Fates.
When for her darling Child her Tears o'erflow
I Sympathize in Mariamne's Woe.

1

Ev'n Herod, tho' by Ufurpation great,

Tho' fell Destruction stalk'd around his State,

Tho' Royal Afmonaan Blood he shed,

Nor lamblike Innocence his Fury fled;

When drawn by Thee, when paffing thro' thy

[Hands, Sufpends our Anger, and our Tears demands: With Pity we behold his wild Excess,

And moan the Savage Tyrant's deep Distress.

Let