Or cou'd I mount on the Mæonian wing,
Or chant fuch fongs as RAPTUR'D Seraphs fing;
To you my kind protectors wou'd I raise
My fulleft, loudeft, warmest notes of praise :
The great, the brave, the fair, who now appear
In bright array to grace this circle here,
My mufe to latest ages fhould proclaim,
Their worth record, and confecrate their fame;
While gratitude on RAPTUROUS pinion foars,
And echoes loud the virtues the adores.
UNGRATEFUL Damon' nest of moms a bli
Are these the happy scenes of promis'd bliss? Ne'er hope, vain Laura, future peace to prove ; Content ne'er harbours with neglected love.
Confider, fair, the ever-reftlefs pow'r
Shifts with the breeze, and changes with the hour:
Above restraint, he fcorns a fix'd abode,
And on his filken plumes flies forth the rambling god.
You fay at your feet that I wept in despair,
And vow'd that no angel was ever so fair;
How could you believe all the nonsense I spoke?
What know we of angels I meant it in joke.
I next ftand indicted for fwearing to love,
And nothing but death fhould my paffion remove :
I have lik'd you a twelvemonth, a Calendar year;
And not yet contented?-Have confcience, my dear.
RECITATIVE.
To-day Damætas gave a rural treat,
And I once more more my chofen friends must meet.
Farewel, sweet damfel; and remember this,
Dull repetition deadens all our blifs.
Where baleful cyprefs forms a gloomy fhade,
And yelling spectres haunt the dreary glade,
Unknown to all, my lonesome steps I'll bend:
There weep my fuff'rings, and my fate attend.
AIR.
Vain is ev'ry fond endeavour.
To refift the tender dart :
For examples move us never;
We must feel, to know, the fmart.
When the shepherd fwears he's dying,
And our beauties fets to view;
Vanity, her aid fupplying,
Bids us think 'tis all our due.
Softer than the vernal breezes,
Is the mild deceitful ftrain;
Frowning truth our fex difpleafes,
Flatt'ry never fues in vain.
Soon, too foon, the happy lover
Does our tend'reft hopes deceive;
Man was form'd to be a rover,
Foolish woman to believe.
SCENE III. DAMON and several Shepherds drinking.
In mirth and paftime ev'ry hour employ,
Loft is the day that is not spent in joy;
Here ftrew your rofes, here your chaplets bring,
And liften, neighbours, to the truths I fing.
Push about the brifk bowl, 'twill enliven the heart,
While thus we fit round on the grafs ;
The lover who talks of his fuff'rings and smart,
Deferves to be reckon'd an afs.
The wretch who fits watching his ill-gotten pelf,
And wishes to add to the mafs;
Whate'er the curmudgeon may think of himself,
Deferves to be reckon'd an afs.
The beau, who, fo fmart with his well-powder'd hair,
An angel beholds in his glass,
And thinks with grimace to fubdue all the fair,
May justly be reckon❜d an afs.
The merchant from climate to climate will roam,
Of Crafus the wealth to furpass;
And oft while he's wand'ring, my lady at home
Claps the horns of an ox on an ass.
The lawyer fo grave, when he puts in his plea,
With forehead well-cover'd with brafs ;
Though he talk to no purpose, he pockets your fee;
There you, my good friend, are the ass.
The formal phyfician, who knows ev'ry ill,
Shall laft be produc'd in this clafs :
The fick man a while may confide in his skill;
But death proves the doctor an afs.
Then let us, companions, be jovial and gay,
By turns take the bottle and lass;
For he who his pleasures puts off for a day,
Deferves to be reckon'd an afs.
SCENE IV. PASTORA, PALÆMON.
PALEMON.
Indeed, Paftora, fpite of all you fay,
I muft this very inftant hafte away :
You think my flame's extinguish'd quite, I know,
And other objects ftrike me-May be fo.
PASTORA.
Perfidious boy! I know 'tis Sylvia's charms
That tear Palæmon from these circling arms;
But foon, perhaps, fome other wiser youth
May learn to fet due value on my truth.
Who'er the youth may be who claims my part,
He has my full confent with all
my heart.
Farewel, my Paftora; no longer your swain,
Quite fick of his bondage, can fuffer his chain:
Nay, arm not your brow with fuch haughty disdain;
My heart leaps with joy to be free once again.
Sing tol derol.
I'll live like the birds, thofe fweet tenants of May,
Who always are sportful, who always are gay:
How sweetly their fonnets they carrol all day!
Their love is but frolic, their courtship but play.
Sing tol derol.
If ftruck by a beauty they ne'er faw before,
In chirping foft notes they her pity implore:
She yields to intreaty; and when the fits o'er,
'Tis an hundred to ten that they never meet more...
Sing tol derol.
PASTORA..
Infulting boy! I'll tear him from my mind..
Ah, wou'd my fortune cou'd a husband find!
And juft in time young Damon comes this way,
A handsome youth he is, and rich, they say.
SCENE V. DAMON, PASTORA.
Vouchfafe, fweet maid, to hear a wretched fwain,
Who, loft in wonder, hugs the pleafing chain:
For you in fighs I hail the rifing day;
you at eve I fing the love-fick lay:
Then take, my love, my homage as your due.
The devil's in her if all this won't do.
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