Fair ones, while your beauty's blooming Use your time, lest age resuming

What your youth profusely lends, You are robb'd of all your glories, And condemn'd to tell old stories To your unbelieving friends.

[WALSH.]

CELIA, too late you would repent;
The off'ring all your store
Is now but like a pardon sent
To one that's dead before.

While at the first you cruel prov❜d,
And grant the bliss too late,
You hinder'd me of one I lov'd
To give me one I hate.

I thought you innocent as fair
When first my court I made,
But when your falsehoods plain appear
My love no longer staid.

Your bounty of those favours shown

Whose worth you first deface,

Is melting valued medals down,
And giving us the brass.

Oh! since the thing we beg's a toy,

By lovers priz'd alone,

Why cannot women grant the joy
Before our love is gone?

Ir the quick spirit of your eye,
Now languish, and anon must die;
If every sweet and every grace
Must fly from that forsaken face;
Then, Celia, let us reap our joys,
Ere time such goodly fruit destroys.

Or if that golden fleece must grow
For ever free from aged snow;

If those bright suns must know no shade,
Nor your fresh beauty ever fade;

Then, Celia, fear not to bestow

What still being gather'd, still must grow.

Thus either time his sickle brings
In vain, or else in vain his wings,

LATE when love I seem'd to slight,
Phyllis smil'd, as well she might!

Now, said she, our throne may tremble, Men our province now invade,

Men take up our royal trade,

Men, ev'n men, do now dissemble,

In the dust our empire's laid.

Tutor❜d by the wise and grave,
Loath I was to be a slave;

Mistress sounded arbitrary ;
So I chose to hide my flame,
Friendship, a discreeter name;

But she scorns one jot to vary, She will love, or nothing, claim.

Be a lover, or pretend,

Rather than the warmest friend;
Friendship of another kind is,
Swedish coin of gross allay,
A cart-load will scarce defray ?
Love, one grain is worth the Indies,
Only love is current pay.

AH! Chloris, could I now but sit

As unconcern'd as when
Your infant beauty could beget
No happiness nor pain !
When I this dawning did admire,
And prais'd the coming day,
I little thought that rising fire
Would take my rest away.

Your charms in harmless childhood lay As metals in a mine;

Age from no face takes more away

Than youth conceal'd in thine :

But as your charms insensibly
To their perfection prest,
So love, as unperceiv'd, did fly,
And center'd in my breast.

My passion with your beauty grew,
While Cupid, at my heart,
Still as his mother favour'd you,

Threw a new flaming dart :
Each gloried in their wanton part;
To make a beauty, she
Employ'd the utmost of her art;
To make a lover, he.

THE Graces and the wand'ring Loves

Are fled to distant plains,

To chase the fawns, or in deep groves
To wound admiring swains.

With their bright mistress there they stray,
Who turns her careless eyes

From daily triumphs; yet, each day,
Beholds new triumphs in her way,
And conquers while she flies.

But see! implor'd by moving prayers,
To change the lover's pain,
Venus her harness'd doves prepares,

And brings the fair again.
Proud mortals, who this maid pursue,

Think you, she'll e'er resign?

Cease, fools, your wishes to renew,

Till she grows flesh and blood, like you ;

Or you, like her, divine.

[WALLER.]

SAY, lovely dream, where could'st thou find

Shadows to counterfeit that face?

Colours of this glorious kind,

Come not from any mortal place.