CHOICE airs, Songs,& Dialogues To SING to the THEORBO-LUTE, or BASS-VIOL.  
BEING Most of the Newest airs and Songs, Sung at COURT, And at the public theaters.  
Composed by Several Gentlemen of His Majesties music, and others.  
Newly Re-printed with large ADDITIONS.  
 
LONDON, Printed by William Godbid, and are Sold by John Playford near the Temple Church, 1676.   

To the LOVERS of music.  
Gentlemen& Ladies,  
MUSICK is of different effects, and admits of as much variety of Fancy to please all Humours as any Science whatever. It moves the Affections sometimes into a sober Composure, and other-times into an active Jollity. These Songs and airs are such as were lately Composed, and are very suitable and acceptable to the Genius of these Times. Many of the Words have been already Published, which gave but little content to divers Ingenious Persons, who thought them as dead, unless they had the Airy Tunes to quicken them; to gratify whom, was a great inducement to me for their Publication. Your kind acceptance and general good liking of the former Impression of this Book has both encouraged and obliged me to present you with this New Edition; wherein I have taken special care to Correct those Errors that before escaped in the music untaken notice of; and have likewise added several Stanza's of Verses to the Songs that then wanted them; as also now added above Forty new airs, Songs, and Dialogues, never before Printed; Not doubting, but the Excellency of the whole Work, as it is now published, is such, as will be kindly received by all true and ingenious Lovers of music; which is the Endeavour of him, who is your  
Most Hearty Servant, JOHN PLAYFORD.   

An Alphabetical Table of the Songs and Dialogues in this Book.  

A Lover I'm born and a Lover I'll be 14  
After the pangs of a desperate Lover 4  
And I'll go to my Love, where he lies in the deep 10  
At the sight of my Phillis, 24  
Ah Coridon, in vain you boast 16  
As I walked in the woods, one evening of late 36  
Ah, false amyntas, can that hour 42  
amyntas lead me to a Grove 50  
amyntas, that true hearted Swain 53  
Ah cruel Eyes that first inflamed 58  
Away with the silly blind god ibid.  
Ah Phillis, would the gods decree 62  
Ah fading Joy, how quickly art thou past 66  
Ah, what shall we do, when our eyes 72  
Adieu to the pleasures and follies of Love 73  
Ah, how long have I fed my desires 74  
Beneath a myrtle shed 37  
Be jolly my Friends, for the Money we spend 40  
Beauty no more shall suffer eclipse 49  
Cheer up my Mates, the wind doth fairly blow 2  
Calm was the evening and clear was the Sky 8  
Can Luciamira so mistake 18  
Come lay by your care, and hang up your sorrow 40  
Come away, to' her Glass, he's a temperate Ass 56  
Down with this Love 84  
farewell fair Armida, my joy and my grief 9  
Fill round the Health good natured and free 39  
Forth from the dark and dismal cell 94  
For my Love sleeps now in a watery Grave 10  
fie Cloris, 'tis silly to sigh thus in vain 64  
Forgive me Jove 70  
Give o'er foolish heart, and make hast to despair 28  
God Cupid for certain, as foolish as blind 46  
Hark, hark, the Storm grows loud 1  
How strangely severe and unjust are we grown 22  
How severe is forgetful ol● age 30  
How unhappy a Lover am I 32  
How pleasant is Mutual Love 38  
How bonny and brisk, ah how 42  
How oft have I bid defiance 59  
How large an extent has Loves Empire 78  
I pass all my hours in a shady old Grove 11  
I'll have no more dealing fond Cupid, with thee 21  
I languish all night, and sigh all the day 26  
I am no subject unto fate 44  
Insult not too much on thy fading success 45  
I languish for one that ne're thinks of me 57  
If languishing Eyes, without language can move 72  
Is Caelidon unkind 71  
I must confess not many years ago 75  
I heard a young Lover 79  
Let Fortune and Phillis frown if they please 27  
Let's drink dear Friends lets drink 38  
Long betwixt hope and fear 50  
Lo behind a scene of Seas 52  
Long since fair Clorinda, 62  
Long by disdain 85  
Let us Drink and be merry 95  
Mine own Sabina come along 15  
My Youth I kept free from all sorts of care 25  
Me-thinks the poor town has been troubled to long 41  
Now ●ffairs of the State 30  
Nay let me alone 54  
Nay prithee no more 86  
O Love, if e're thou'lt ease a heart 12  
Of all the brisk Dames 23  
On the Bank of a Brook 34  
Oh name not the day, 46  
Oh the time that is past 54  
Of all the gay Ladies that walk the brisk Town 61  
O how I abhor the tumult and smoke 80  
Phillis, for shane let us improve 34  
Phillis, the time is come that we must sever 20  
Phillis, Oh turn that face away 48  
Run to Loves Lottery 5  
Since we poor slavish women know 18  
Some happy soul come down and tell 19  
Since Phillis we find 67  
Sit thee down by me 76  
Since Caelia's my foe 77  
Thus Cupid commences his Rape 3  
Thus all our life long we frolic 13  
Too justly alas, and yet so much in vain 17  
The Nymph that undoes me 31  
Tell me amyntas 44  
To what modest grief 46  
The day you wished arrived at last 47  
'tis the Grape that discovers 56  
The delights of the Bottle 74  
When Coridon a slave did lie 7  
When Aurelia first I courted 14  
Whilst Alexis lay prest in her arms 22  
What fancies of pleasure 26  
Where ever I am 29  
Why Phillis to me so untrue 33  
Why should a foolish Marriage Vow 35  
When Thirsis did the splended Eye 43  
Why, O Cupid, so long 48  
When a Woman that's Buxom 51  
What madness it is to give over our drinking 55  
When first my free heart was surprised 60  
Were Caelia but as chast as fair ibid.  
When first I saw fair Caelia's face 63  
Wrong not your lovely Eyes 65  
When I shall leave this clod of day 68  
What sighs and groans 69  
Willy was so blithe an Lad 76  
When Caelia my heart did surprise 84   

D●alogues.  

A Heart in Loves Empire Two Shepherdestes. 82  
O, Sorrow, Sorrow, Nature and Sorrow. 87  
Celadon on Delias Singing A Pastoral. 88  
When death shall Thirsis and Dorinda. 90     

IMPRIMATUR,  
Roger L' strange.   

The Storm.  
HArk, hark, hark, the Storm grows loud, the day's wrapped up in a sullen Cloud: Hark, hark, the Tempest sings the Seamans dirge, and flings the tost up Waves to fatal showers; And those that never prayed before, call now upon some unknown powers. Hark, hark, the tackling justle, the Seamen bustle, Crack, crack; down goes the Main mast, down, down, down; hark how they groan; Hark, hark, amongst the rest, I hear some sighs like mine; 'tis from a Lover sure: Ye powers Divine, calm, calm this ungentle rage, the Storm assuage, pi╌ty a Lo╌vers woe, and let kind Neptune now his Trident show. See, it grows calm, the Storms now cease; and all the Ocean's face shows smiles of peace.   

CHeer up my Mates, the Wind doth fairly blow; clap on more Sails, and never spare. Farewell all Lands, for now we are in the wide Sea of Drink; and merrily, merrily, merrily we go. Bless me! 'tis hot; another bowl of Wine, and we shall cut the burning Line: Hey boys she scudds away, and by my head I know we round the World are sailing now. What dull men are those that tarry at home, when abroad they may wantonly rome; and gain such experience, and spy to such Countries and wonders as I do! But prithee good Pilot, take heed what you do, and fail not to touch at PERU; with Gold there our Vessel we'll store, and never, never be poor, and never be poor any more.  Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

A 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
THus Cupid commences his rapes and Vagaries, and sports himself with Female passions; A thousand times over he changes and varies their Fancies as oft as their Fashions: A world of fine Stratagems he exercises, his power to increase, and enlarge his Dominions; Though his force be but feeble; by fraud he surprises the Lord knows how many millions: With his Songs and his Sonnets, his Tales and Romances, he works on the hearts of the poor silly Lover; Whose want of discretion his Trade so advances, since he none of his cheats can discover: But his greatest design, and wherein he most glories, by which the whole world is so willingly cheated; Is to cog and dissemble, and tell lying Stories, as Women love best to be treated. Now you that from Love are resolved to be Free-man, take heart and be noble, be active, and jolly; for to pine for a mistress, you never shall see man, who yields not to love Me╌lan╌chol╌ly.  Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
AFter the pangs of a desperate Lover, when day and night I have sighed all in vain; Ah! what a pleasure it is to dis╌co╌ver, in her Eyes Pity who causes my Pain.  

I.  
When with unkindness our Love at a stand is:  
And both have punished ourselves with the pain;  
Ah, what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!  
Ah, what a pleasure to press it again!   

II.  
When the denial comes fainter and fainter,  
And her Eyes give what her Tongue does deny;  
Ah, what a trembling I feel when I venture!  
Ah, what a trembling does usher my Joy!   

III.  
When with a Sigh, she accords me the blessing,  
And her Eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain:  
Ah, what a Joy 'tis beyond all expressing!  
Ah! what a Joy to hear, Shall we again?   Mr. Alph. Marsh.  

RUn to Loves Lottery, run Maids and rejoice; whilst seeking your chance you meet your own choice: And boast that your luck you help with design, by praying cross-legg'd to St. Va╌len╌tine. Hark, hark, a prise is drawn, and Trumpets sound, Tan ta ra ra ra, Tan ta ra ra ra, Tan ta ra ra ra, hark Maids, more Lotts are drawn; prizes abroad, Dub dub a dub a dub, the Drum now beats, and Dub a dub a dub echo repeats; as if at night the god of War had made Loves Queen a skirmish for a Serenade. Hast, hast, fair Maids, and come away; The Priest attends your Drag. Bridegrooms stay: Roses and Pinks will be strown where you go, whilst I walk in shades of willow, willow. When I am dead, let him that did slay me, be but so good as kindly to lay me there where neglected Lovers mourn, where Lamps and hallowed Tapers burn: Where Clerks in Quires sad Dirges sing; where sweetly Bells at Burials ring. My rose of Youth is gone; with'red as soon as blown: Lovers go ring my Knell, Beauty and Love farewell. And lest Virgins for╌sa╌ken should perhaps be mi╌sta╌ken in seeking my Grave; Alas, let them know, I lie near a shade of Willow, Willow: I lie near a shade of Willow, Willow.  Mr. Alph. Marsh.  

WHen Co╌ri╌don, a Slave, did lie entangled in his Phillis Eye; how did he sigh, how did he groan, how melancholy was his tone! He  told his story to the Woods; and wept his passion by the Floods: Yet Phillis, cruel Phillis, too to blame, regarded nor his sufferings, nor his flamme. Then Co╌ri╌don re╌solv'd no more his Mi╌stress mer╌cy to implore; How did he laugh, how did he sing, how did he make the forest ring! He  told his Conquest to the Woods; And drown his passion in the Floods: Then Phillis, cru╌el Phillis, less severe, would have had him; but he would none of her.  Mr. William Gregory  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
CAlm was the evening and clear was the Sky, and the sweet budding Flowers did spring, when all alone went A╌min╌tor and I, to hear the sweet Nigh╌tin╌gale sing; I sate and he laid him down by me, and scarcely his breath he could draw: But when with a fear he began to come near, he was dashed with a Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  

II.  
He blushed to himself, and laid still for a while,  
His modesty curbed his desire;  
But straight I convinced all his fears with a smile,  
And added new flames to his fire:  
Ah, Sylvia! said he, you are cruel,  
To keep your poor Lover in awe;  
Then once more he prest with his hand to my breast,  
But was dashed with a Ha ha ha ha ha, &c.   

III.  
I knew 'twas his Passion that caused his fear,  
And therefore I pitied his case;  
I whispered him softly, there's no body near,  
And laid my Cheek close to his Face:  
But as we grew bolder and bolder,  
A Shepherd came by us and saw:  
And straight as our bliss, we began with a kiss,  
He laughed out with a Ha ha ha ha ha, &c.   Mr. Alph. Marsh.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
farewell fair Ar╌mi╌da, my Joy and my Grief, in vain I have loved you, and hope no relief: Undone by your Virtue too strict and se╌vere; Your Eyes gave me Love, and you gave me despair. Now called by my Honour, I seek with content, the Fate which in pi╌ty you would not prevent: To Languish in Love, were to find by de╌lay a Death that's more welcome the speedier way.  

II.  
On Seas and in Battles, 'mongst Bullets and Fire,  
The danger is less than in hopeless desire:  
My Deaths wound you gave me though far off I bear,  
My Fate from your sight not to cost you a Tear.  
But if the kind Floods on a Wave will convey,  
And under your Window my Body should lay:  
The Wound on my Breast, when you happen to see,  
You'l say with a sigh, it was given by me.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

Captain DIGBY's Farewell. A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
ANd I'll go to my Love where he lies in the Deep, and in my embra╌ces my Dearest shall sleep: When we wake, the kind Dolphins to╌gether shall throng, and in Chariots of Shells shall draw us a╌long.  

The Orientest Pearl that the Ocean best owes  
We'll mix with the Coral, and a Crown so compose:  
The Sea nymphs shall sigh, and envy our bliss;  
We'll teach them to Love, and Cockles to Kiss.    

FOr my Love sleeps now in a Wat'ry Grave, and hath nothing to show for his Tomb but a Wave: I'll kiss his dear lips than the Coral more read, that grows where he lies in his Wat'ry bed. Ah! Ah! Ah my Love's dead! There was not a Bell, but a Triton's Shell to Ring, to Ring out his Knell.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

I Pass all my hours in a shady old Grove, but I live not the day when I see not my Love: I survey every walk now my Phillis is gone, and sigh when I think we were there all a╌lone: Oh then' tis! Oh then! that I think there's no Hell, like Loving, like Loving too well.  

II.  
But each Shade and each conscious bower, when I find  
Where I once have been happy, and She has been kind:  
When I see the print left of her shape in the Green,  
And imagine the pleasure may yet come again:  
Oh then' tis! Oh then 'tis, I think no Joys above  
Like the pleasures, the pleasures of Love.   

III.  
While alone to myself I repeat all her Charms,  
She I love may be locked in another mans arms;  
She may laugh at my Cares, and so false she may be,  
To say all the kind things she before said to me:  
Oh then tis! Oh then 'tis, that I think there's no Hell  
Like Loving, like Loving too well.   

IV.  
But when I consider the truth of her heart,  
Such an innocent Passion, so kind without Art,  
I fear I have wronged her, and hope she may be  
So full of true love to be Jealous of me:  
And then 'tis, and then 'tis I think no Joys above  
Like the pleasures, the pleasures of Love.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

O Love! if e're thou'lt ease a Heart that owns thy power di╌vine, and bleeds with thy too cru╌el dart, and pants with never ceasing smart; take pi╌ty now on mine. Under thy shades I fainting lie; a thousand times I wish to die: But when I find could death too nigh, I grieve to lose my pleasing pain, and call my wishes back again.  

II.  
But thus, as I sat all alone  
In th' shady myrtle Grove,  
When to each gentle Sigh and Moan,  
Some neighbouring echo gave a Groan,  
Came by the Man I loved:  
Oh, how I striven my Grief to hid!  
I Panted, blushed, and almost died,  
And did each tattling echo chide,  
For fear some breath of moving Air  
Should to his Ears my sorrows bear.   

III.  
And, oh ye powers! I'd die to gain  
But one poor parting Kiss;  
And yet I'll suffer wracks of pain,  
E're I'd one thought or wish retain  
That Honour thinks amiss:  
Thus are poor Maids unkindly used,  
By Love and Nature both abused,  
Our tender Hearts all ease refused:  
And when we burn with secret flamme,  
Most bear the grief, or die with shane.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

THus all our lives long we're frolic a●d gay; and instead of Court Revels, we me╌ri╌ly play at Trap and at Kettles, at Barly-break run, at Goff and at Stool-ball; and when we have done these in╌no╌cent Sports, we laugh and lye down, and to each pret╌ty Lass we give a green Gown.  

II.  
We teach our little Dogs to fetch and to carry,  
The Partridge, Hare, the pheasant our Quarry;  
The nimble Squirrels with cudgel we chase,  
And the little pretty Lark betray with a glass:  
And when we have done, &c.   

III.  
About the May-pole we dance all a round,  
And with Garlands of Pinks and Roses are crowned,  
Our little kind tribute we merrily pay  
To the gay Lad, and the bright Lady o'th' May.  
And when we have done, &c.   

IV.  
With our delicate nymphs we kiss and we toy,  
What others but dream of we daily enjoy;  
With our Sweet-hearts we dally so long till we find  
Their pretty Eyes say their Hearts are grown kind.  
And when we have done we laugh and lie down,  
And to each pretty Lass we give a green Gown.   Mr. John Banister.  

A Lover I'm Born, and a Lover I'll be; and hope from my Love I shall ne╌ver be free. Let wisdom abound in the grave Woman-hater; yet never to Love, is a sign of ill Nature: But he who loves well, and whose Passion is strong, can never be wretched, but e╌ver be Young.  

II.  
With hopes and with fears, like a Ship in the Ocean,  
Our Hearts are kept dancing, and ever in motion:  
When our Passion is palled, and our Fancy would fail,  
Some little quarrel supplies a fresh Gale:  
But when the doubt's cleared, and the jealousies gone,  
How we Kiss and Embrace, and can never have done.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHen Au╌re╌lia first I Courted, she had Youth and Beauty too; killing Pleasures when she sported, and her Charms were e╌ver new. conquering Time hath now deceived her; which her glories did uphold: All her Arts can ne're retrieve her; poor Au╌re╌lia growing old.  

Those Airy spirits which invited,  
Are return'd, and now no more;  
And her Eyes are now benighted,  
Which were Comets heretofore.  
Want of these abates her merits;  
Yet I have passion for her Name:  
Only kind and amorous Spirits,  
Kindle, and maintain the flamme.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

MIne own Sa╌bi╌na, come along, the subject of my Song, for thee I long: Then know, my pretty Sweetest, know, since thou lovest me, I'll fancy nothing in the World but thee: I'll fancy nothing in the World but thee.  

II.  
embroil those Damask Cheeks of thine,  
Where every beauteous line  
is so Divine;  
That were I to receive my Death by thy fair Eye,  
I'd court it in the pits to butted lie.   

III.  
Display thine Arms, thy Wealth unfold,  
Then like to Jove of old,  
in liquid Gold;  
And we'll carovie it in Loves bowls to such a bliss,  
Our Souls shall mingle, while our Bodies Kiss.   

IV.  
Thus will we Live, thus will we Love,  
When as the gods above  
shall envious prove;  
And after death, we'll toy as they; till that appear,  
We'll have elysium here, as they have there.    

AH, Co╌ri╌don! in vain you boast, you still do Clo ris Love; far better 'tis your heart were lost, than thus sus╌pi╌tious prove: You then would kill me by disdain, but dying thus, you blot my Name. For all will say, Cloris was false, and went astray: Cloris was false, and did deserve her shane.  

II.  
For happy Shepherd, well you know  
Your flamme does mine excel;  
All generous Coridon doth know,  
But none my Tale will tell:  
Cloris, though true, must lose her name;  
But Coridon will keep his famed:  
For all will say, Cloris was false,  
And went astray:  
Cloris was false, and did deserve her shane.   

III.  
But cruel Shepherd, when you hear  
That I am dead indeed;  
I do believe you'll  shed one Tear,  
Though now you have decreed,  
That Cloris true, must lose her Name,  
For Coridon to keep his famed.  
For then you'll say, Cloris was true,  
And ne're did stray:  
Cloris was true, and I deserve the shane.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

TOo justly, alas! and yet so much in vain, of a fate too severe, may the Lover complain; whose soul is di╌vi╌ded, and tort'red like mine, when his Duty forbids what his Love does enjoin. Then patience in vain, doth a passion withstand; for we cannot obey, when we cannot command.  

II.  
Sure Nature designed us a blesseder state;  
There's no other Creature but chooses a Mate:  
And the Turtles in pairs, through an Amorous grove,  
Do Love where they like, and enjoy where they Love.  
What Tyrants are those who do seek to destroy  
The liberty we do by Nature enjoy.   

III.  
Yet since 'tis a blessing the Gods have ordained,  
That our wills should be free, though our power be restrained:  
We'll Love while we live, for the constant at last  
Do the perfectest Joys of elysium taste:  
O there, O there, we may Love out our fill,  
When to Do and Enjoy is the same as to Will.   Mr. James Hart.  

CAn Lu╌cia╌mi╌ra so mistake, to persuade me to fly; 'tis cruel kind, for my own sake to counsel me to die: Like those faint souls, who cheat themselves of breath; and die, for fear of death.  

II.  
Since Love's the principle of Life,  
And you the object loved;  
Let's, Luciamira, end this strife,  
I cease to be removed:  
We know not what they do are gone from hence;  
But here we Love by sense.   

III.  
If the Platonicks, who would prove  
Souls without Bodies Love;  
Had with respect, well understood  
The Passions of the Blood:  
theyed suffer Mortals to have had their part;  
And seated Love in th' Heart.   Mr. John Banister.  

SInce we, poor slavish Women, know, our Men we cannot pick and choose: To him we Love, why say we, No? and both our time and labour lose. By our put off, and fond delays a Lovers ap╌pe╌tite we pall; and if too long the Gallant stays, his Stomachs gone for good and all.  

II.  
Or our impatient amorous Guest,  
Unknown to us, away may steal;  
And rather than stay for a feast,  
Take up with some course ready meal.  
When opportunity is kind,  
Let prudent Women be so too;  
And if the Man be to her mind,  
Be sure she do not let him go.   

III.  
The Match soon made, is happiest still;  
For Love has only there to do:  
Let no one mary 'gainst her will,  
But stand off, when her Parents woe;  
And to the suitor be not coy:  
For she whom jointure can obtain,  
To let a Fop her bed enjoy,  
Is but a lawful Wench for gain.   Mr. John Banister.  

SOme happy soul come down and tell what Joys are those with you do dwell: If it be happiness like ours below, which from our want of ills does only flow: Then, then 'tis plain, that mighty theme of Im╌mor╌ta╌li╌ty is but a Dream.  

II.  
'tis Love, 'tis Love! For nothing can  
Give real happiness to man:  
But Joys like those that Lovers souls enjoy,  
Which here on Earth there's nothing can destroy.  
Ay, ay, 'tis Love can only be  
The happy souls felicity.   

III.  
Are your delights in what you see,  
Of wonderful variety?  
Or can your Joys arise from pleasant things;  
Your Taste, or Smelling, to your fancy brings?  
No, no, 'tis plain, if it were so,  
Eternity by gradual steps must go.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

PHillis, the time is come that we must fever; long have we lingered 'twixt kindness and strife: And though we promised ourselves to love ever, there is a fate in Love, as well as Life. So many jealousies daily we try, sometime we freeze, and then sometimes we fry; that Love in Colds, or in fevers will die.  

II.  
Both by ourselves, and others tormented,  
Still in suspense betwixt Heaven and Hell:  
Ever desiring, and never contented;  
Either not Loving, or Loving to well.  
Parting we still are in each others powers;  
Our loves a weather of Sun-shine, and showers:  
Its days are bitter, though sweet are its hours.   

III.  
Why should we Fate any longer importune,  
Since to each other unhappy we prove:  
Like losing Gamesters, we tempt our ill Fortune;  
Both might be luckier in a new Love.  
This were the way our reason bear sway;  
But when we so pleasing a Passion destroy,  
We may be more happy, but less should enjoy.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

isle have no more dealings, fond Cu╌pid, with thee; so much I 'm a friend to my dear li╌ber╌tie: 'twas passion for Beauty, that kindled my fire; but thanks be to reason that checked my desire. My sighs and my fears, they were formerly spent for Love; I make use of them now to re╌pent: If e're by chance, I hear talk of black Eyes; I fall to my prayers, and the Ill spirit flies.  

II.  
There's none in the world madder than he,  
That loves his own dangers, and will not be free:  
I'll ne're be confined to the Devils black Rod,  
For serving in Love, a fantastical God.  
Experience hath taught me the infallible Art,  
Of kerbing my Eye-sight, to preserve my Heart:  
Where e're I encounter a beauteous face,  
I bless myself! turn aside, and mend my place.   Mr. William gregory.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
HOw strangely severe, and unjust are we grown! For we punish in all the Offences of one: While dissembling amyntas, a Passion did fain, I Damon's Affections return'd with disdain; and gave more belief to the Shepherd that swore, than to him who did faithfully Love and A╌dore.  

II.  
Then how is it Just, O ye Powers divine!  
That Damon should die, when the error was mine:  
Yet pardon me once, and if ever again  
I'm deaf to the Voice of a Lover in pain;  
Then let me not prosper in what I've begun,  
But die in despair, as my Damon has done.   Mr. William Turner.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHilst A╌lex╌is lay prest in her Arms he loved best, with his hand round her neck, and his head on her breast: He found the fierce pleasure too hasty to stay, and his soul in a Tempest just flying a╌way.  

II.  
When Caelia saw this, with a Sigh and a Kiss,  
She cried, O my Dear! I 'm robbed of my bliss:  
'tis unkind to your Love, and unfaithfully done,  
To leave me behind you, and die all alone.   

III.  
The Youth, though in hast, and breathing his last,  
In pity died slowly, while she died more fast;  
till at length she cried, now, my Dear, now  
Let's go; Now die, my Alexis, and I will die too.   

IV.  
Thus entranced she did lie, while Alexis did try  
To recover new breath, that again he might die:  
Then often they died; but the more they did so,  
The nymph died more quick, and the shepherd more slow.   Mr. Nicholas Staggins.  

OF all the brisk Dames, Misselina for me; for I love not a Woman unless she be free. The Affection that I to my Mistress do pay, grows weary, unless she does meet it half way. There can be no pleasure, till humours do hit; and jumping's as good in affection as Wit.  

II.  
No sooner I came, but she liked me as soon;  
No sooner I asked, but she granted my boon:  
And without a Preamble, a Portion, or jointure,  
She promised to meet me, where e're I'd appoint her.  
So we struck up a match, and embraced each other,  
Without the consent of Father or Mother.   

III.  
Then away with a Lady that's modest and coy;  
Let her ends be the pleasures that we do enjoy:  
Let her tickle her fancy with secret delight,  
And refuse all the day, what she longs for at night.  
I believe my Selina, who shows they're all mad  
To feed on dry Bones, when Flesh may be had.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

AT the sight of my Phillis, through every part, a Spring-tide of Joy doth flow up to my Heart; which quickens each Pulse, and swells e╌ve╌ry Vein, yet all my Delights are still mingled with Pain.  

II.  
So strong a Distemper, sure Love cannot bring;  
To my Knowledge, Love was a quieter thing,  
So gentle and tame, that he never was known  
So much as to wake me, when I lay alone.    

BUt the Boy is much grown, and so altered of late, he's become a more furious passion than hate, since by Phillis restored to the Empire of hearts, he has new strung his Bow, and sharpened his Darts; and strictly the rights of his Crown to maintain, he breaks every Heart, and turns ev'╌ry Brain.  

My Madness, alas! I too plainly discover;  
For he is at least as much Mad-man as Lover,  
Who for one cruel Beauty, is ready to quit  
All the Nymphs of the Stage, and those of the Pit:  
The Joys of Hide-park, and the Mall's dear delight,  
To be Sober all Day, and Chast all the Night.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
MY Youth I kept free from all thoughts of care, And guarded it safe from the Black and the Fair; So stubborn I was, that I laughed at the pains Men took to be wretched, and loaded with Chains: But when I the Charms of my Phil╌lis did see, I rendered my Heart, and refused to be free.  

II.  
I loved with a Zeal and Passion so strong,  
Forgot she was woman, and could not love long:  
I never considered the tricks and the arts  
She used to entangle and captivated hearts:  
At length I discovered, and plainly I knew  
My Phillis was fickle, and could not be true.   

III.  
I cursed my hard fate that kindled my flamme;  
I oftener myself than my Phillis did blame:  
Yet I bore such respect unto her, that I thought  
Want of merit in me, this humour had wrought.  
And then I resolved I never would be  
So bold as to Love, but would always be free.   Mr. Alph. Marsh, Junior.  

WHat fancies of Pleasure doth Love all alone propose to itself, when the Object is gone. But, a╌lass! how vain is the strength of that Joy, which a word or a frown, has power to destroy.  

II.  
For though the first venture prove calm in her Eyes,  
In the second access a storm may arise:  
Then with sighs and with grief are those spirits displayed,  
Who to cherish despair have given their aid.   

III.  
Thus, Lovers with doubt, a fond kindness pursue,  
Whilst fate from their follies prove false and untrue:  
They're either possessed with the thoughts of despair,  
Or else lay on Love a continual care.   

IV.  
Then since we're endued with so gentle a Soul,  
That every small signal our heart may control;  
'twere a sign of Loves pity, our care to restrain,  
By making us free-men, without so much pain.    

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
I Languish all night, and sigh all the day, and much to be pitied I am: E're since your bright Eyes my Heart did surprise, I could not extinguish the flamme. But since you have known my heart is your own, that before was so kind, now scornful are grown: If so cruel you prove to the man that you Love. Ah, Phillis! ah, Phillis! what fate, a╌lass, is reserved for the man that you hate.   

LEt Fortune and Phillis frown if they please, we'll no more on their Deities call: Nor trouble the Fates, but I'll give myself ease, and be happy in spite of them all. I will have my Phillis, if I once go about her; or if I have not, I live better without her.  

II.  
But if she prove Virtuous, Obliging and Kind,  
Perhaps I'll vouchsafe to love her:  
But if Pride or Inconstancy in her I find,  
I'd have her to know I 'm above her.  
For at length I have learned, now my Fetters are gone,  
To Love, if I please, or to let it alone.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

GIve o'er foolish heart, and make hast to despair; For Daphne regards not thy Vows nor thy prayer: When I pled for thy passion, thy pains to prolong: She courts her guitar, and replies with a Song. No more shall true Lovers such beauties adore: Were the gods so severe, men would worship no more.  

II.  
No more will I wait, like a Slave at your Door,  
I'll spend the could Night at your Window no more:  
My Lungs in long sighs, no more I'll exhale,  
Since your Pride is to make me grow sullen and pale.  
No more shall amyntas your pity implore,  
Were the gods so ingrate, men would worship no more.   

III.  
No more shall your frowns, or free humour persuade  
To court the fair Idol my Fancy hath made:  
When your saints so neglected, your follies give o'er,  
Your Deity's lost, and your beauties no more.  
No more shall true Lovers such Beauties adore,  
Were the gods so severe, men would worship no more.   

IV.  
How weak are the Vows of a Lover in pain,  
When flattered with hope, or oppressed with disdain:  
No sooner my Daphne's bright eyes I review,  
But all is forgot, and I vow all a new.  
No more, fairest Nymph, I will murmur no more;  
Did the gods seem so fair, men would ever adore.   Mr. Alph Marsh.  

WHere e╌ver I am, or what e╌ver I do, my Phillis is still in my mind: When angry, I mean not to Phillis to go; my feet of themselves the way find. Unknown to myself, I am just at her door; and when I would rail, I can bring out no more. Then Phillis, too fair and unkind: Then Phillis too fair and un╌kind.  

II.  
When Phillis I see, my Heart burns in my Breast,  
And the Love I would stifle is shown:  
But asleep or awake, I am never at rest,  
When from mine Eyes Phillis is gone.  
Sometimes a sweet dream doth delude my sad mind;  
But alas! when I wake, and no Phillis I find,  
Then I sigh to myself all alone!  
Then I sigh to myself all alone!   

III.  
Should a King be my rival in her I adore,  
He should offer his treasure in vain:  
O let me alone to be happy and poor,  
And give me my Phillis again.  
Let Phillis be mine, and ever be kind,  
I could to a desert with her be confined;  
And envy no Monarch his reign:  
And envy no Monarch his reign.   

IV.  
alas! I discover too much of my Love;  
And she too well knows her own power:  
She makes me each day a new Martyrdom prove,  
And makes me grow jealous each hour.  
But let her each minute torment my poor mind,  
I had rather love Phillis, both false and unkind,  
Then ever be freed from her power:  
Then ever be freed from h'er power.   Mr. Alph. Marsh.  

NOw affairs of the State are already decreed, make room for affairs of the Cho. Court: employment, and pleasure, each other succeed; because they each other support. Were Cho. Where, &c. Princes confined from slacking their mind; when by care it is ruffled and curled: A Crown would appear too heavy to wear; and no man would Govern the World.   

HOw severe is forgetful old Age, to confine a poor Lover so! that I almost despair to see even the Air; much more my dear Damon, hey ho! Though I whisper my sighs out alone, I am traced wheresoever I go; that some treacherous three hides this old man from me; and there he counts every Hey ho! hey ho!  

II.  
How shall I this Argus blind?  
And so put an end to my wo;  
For whilst I beguile.  
His Frowns with a Smile;  
I betray myself with a Hey ho! hey ho!   

III.  
My restraint, then alas! must endure,  
So that since my sad doom I know:  
I'll pine for my Love  
Like the Turtle-Dove;  
And breath out my Life in Hey ho! hey ho!   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
THe Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind; no less than a wonder by nature designed: She's the grief of my Heart, the joy of my Eye; And the Cause of a flamme that never can die: She's the grief of my Heart, and joy, of my Eye; and the Cause of a flamme, that never can die.  

II.  
Her Lips, from whence Wit obligingly flows,  
Has the colour of cherries, and smell of the Rose:  
Love and Destiny both attends on her Will;  
She Saves with a Smile, with a Frown she can Kill.   

III.  
The desperate Lover can hope no Redress,  
Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess:  
In Caelia they meet, so unhappy am I;  
Who sees her must Love, who Loves her must die.   Mr. Stafford.  

HOw unhappy a Lover am I, whilst I sigh for my Phillis in vain: All my hopes of delight are a╌nother man's right; who is happy, whilst I am in pain. Since her honour affords no re╌lief, but to pi╌ty the pains which you bear: 'tis the best of your fate in a hopeless estate, to give o'er, and betimes to de╌spair.  

II.  
I have tried the false Medicine in vain;  
Yet I wish what I hope not to win:  
From without my desire has no food to its fire,  
But it burns and consumes me within.  
Yet at least, 'tis a comfort to know  
That you are not unhappy alone:  
For the Nymph you adore is as wretched or more,  
And accounts all your sufferings her own.   

III.  
O you powers! let me suffer for both,  
At the feet of my Phillis I'll lie:  
I'll resign up my breath, and tak● pleasure in death,  
To be pitied by her when I die.  
What her honour denied you in life,  
In her death she will give to her love:  
Such a flamme as is true, after fate will renew,  
When the souls do meet closer above.   Mr. Nicholas Staggins.  
Man. 
WHy Phillis, to me, so untrue and unkind? Remember the Vow which you made; Though Love cannot see, let not Honour be blind, whereon is the other betrayed.  Woman 
Though, Sir, to your Bed, true Alleg'ance I vowed:  Man. 
I am not obliged by that Oath:  Woman. 
No longer than you keep both constant and true:  Man. 
The same Vow ob╌li╌geth us both.  

II.  Man. 
Fair Nymph, did you feel  
But those Passions I bear,  
My Love you would never suspect:  
An Heart made of steel  
Sure must needs love the fair,  
And what we love cannot neglect.  Woman. 
Then since we Love both,  
Let us both be agreed;  Man. 
And seal both our Loves with a Kiss:  Woman. 
From breaking our Oath  
We shall both then be freed;  Man. 
And Princes will envy our bliss.    

ON the bank of a Brook as I sat fishing; hide in the Osiers that grew on the side; I over╌heard a Nymph and Shepherd wishing, no time or fortune their Love might divide: To Cupid and Venus each offered a Vow, to Love e╌ver as they Love now.  

II.  
Oh! said the Shepherd, and sighed, what a pleasure  
Is Love concealed betwixt Lovers alone?  
Love must be secret kept like Fairy Treasure,  
When 'tis discovered, 'twill quickly be gone:  
And envy or jealousy if it should stay,  
will too soon, alas! make it decay.   

III.  
Then let us leave the world, and care behind us,  
Said the Nymph smiling, and gave him her hand;  
All alone, all alone, where none shall find us,  
In some far desert we'll seek a new land:  
And there live from envy or jealousy free,  
And a world to each other we'll be.   Mr. John Banister.  

PHillis for sh●me let us improve a thousand federal ways, these few short Minutes snatched by Love from ma╌ny tedious days. Whilst you want courage to despise the censures of the Grave; for all the tyrants in your eyes, your heart is but a slave.  

II.  
My Love is full of noble pride,  
And never shall submit,  
To let that Fop discretion ride  
In triumph over wit.   

III.  
False friends I have as well as you,  
Who daily counsel me,  
famed and ambition to pursue,  
And leave of loving thee.   

IV.  
When I the least belief bestow  
On what such fools advice?  
May I be dull enough to grow  
Most miserable wise.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

WHy should a foolish Marriage Vow, which long ago was made, oblige us to each other now, when passion is de╌cay'd? We loved and loved, as long as we could, till our Love was loved out of us both. But the Marriage is dead, when the pleasure is fled; 'twas pleasure first made it an Oath.  

II.  
If I have pleasure for a friend,  
And further joy in store,  
What wrong has he whose joys did end,  
And who could give no more?  
It's a madness that he  
Should be jealous of me,  
Or that I should bar him of another;  
When all we can gain  
Is to give ourselves pain,  
And neither can hinder the other.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

AS I walked in the Woods, one evening of late, a Lass was deploring her hapless estate; In a languishing posture, poor Maid, she appears, all swelled with her Sighs, and blubb'd with her Tears. She cried and she sobbed, and I found it was all, for a little of that which Harry gave Doll.  

II.  
At last she broken out, Wretched, she said,  
Will no Youth come succour a languishing Maid,  
With what he with ease and with pleasure may give,  
Without which, alas, poor I cannot live!  
Shall I never leave sighing, and crying and call,  
For a little of that, &c.   

III.  
At first when I saw a Young man in the place,  
My colour would fade, and then flush in my face;  
My breath would grow short, and I shivered all o'er,  
My breast never popp'd up and down so before:  
I scarce knew for what, but now I find it was all  
For a little of that, &c.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

BEneath a myrtle shade, which Love for none but happy Lovers made, I slept; and streight my Love before me brought, Phillis, the Object of my waking thought: undressed she comes, my flames to meet; whilst Love straw'd flowers beneath her Feet, so prest by her, became, became more sweet.  

II.  
From the bright Visions head,  
A careless veil of Lawn was loosely spread;  
From her white Temples fell her shaded Hair,  
Like cloudy Sun-shine, not too brown or fair:  
Her Hands, her Lips, did Love inspire,  
Her every Grace my Heart did fire;  
But most her Eyes, that languished with desire.   

III.  
Ah, charming Fair, said I,  
How long can you my bliss and yours deny:  
By Nature and by Love, this lovely shade  
Was for revenge of suffering Lovers made.  
Silence and shades with Love agree,  
Both shelter you, and favour me;  
You cannot blushy, because I cannot see.   

IV.  
No, let me die, she said,  
Rather than lose the spotless name of Maid:  
Faintly she spoken, me-thought, for all the while  
She bid me not believe her with a smile.  
Then die, said I, she still denied;  
And is it thus, thus, thus, she cried,  
You use a harmless Maid? and so she died.   

V.  
I wak't, and strait I knew  
I loved so well, it made my Dream prove true:  
Fancy the kinder mistress of the two,  
Fancy had done what Phillis would not do.  
Ah, cruel Nymph, cease your disdain,  
While I can dream you scorn in vain,  
Asleep, or waking, you must ease my pain.   Mr. John Banister.  

HOw pleasant is mutual Love, if it's true; Then Phillis let us our Affections u╌nite; For the more you love me, and the more I love you, The more we contribute to each others delight. But they who enjoy, without loving first, still Eat without Stomach and drink without thirst.  

II.  
Such is the poor Fool, who loves upon duty,  
Because a canonic a Coxcomb hath made him:  
He ne're tastes the sweets of Love and of Beauty;  
But drudges, because a dull Priest hath betrayed him.  
But who in enjoyment from love take their measure,  
Are wrapped with delights, and still ravished with pleasure.   Mr. Nicholas Staggins.  

LEt's drink, dear Friends, let's drink, the time flies fast away; And we no lei╌sure have to think, then let's make use on't whilst we may. When the black Lake we have past, farewell to Wine, to Love, and Pleasure; to Drink, to Drink, let's then make hast, to Drink we always shan't have leisure. Let's Love, let's Drink, whilst we have breath; no Love nor Drinking after Death.  Mr. Thomas Farmer.  

FIll round the Health, good natured, and free; Let the States╌men po╌li╌tick be: No custom our joys shall deter, this is bliss; Each Lady has her Gallant, each Man has his Miss. On this side, and this, let us Kiss, let us Kiss, Al╌a╌mode d' Angleter: On this side, and this, let us Kiss, let us Kiss, Al╌a╌mode d' Angleter.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
COme lay by your Cares, and hang up your Sorrow, drink on, he's a Sot, that e're thinks of to Morrow: Great store of good claret supplys every thing; and the man that is Drunk is as great as a King.  

II.  
Let none at Misfortunes or Losses repined,  
But take a full dose of the Juice of the Vine:  
Diseases and Troubles are ne're to be found,  
But in the damned place where the glass goes not round.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
BE Jolly my Friends, for the Money we spend, on Women and Wine, to ourselves we do lend: The Ladies Embraces, and our Carbuncl'd Faces, will gain us more credit than the Muses or Graces.  

II.  
Then Sirrah be quicker, and bring us more liquour,  
We'll have nothing to do with Physician or Vicar:  
We'll round with our Bowls, till our Passing-bell Touls,  
And trust no such Quacks with our Bodies or Souls.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
ME-thinks the poor Town has been troubled too long, with Phillis and Cloris in e╌ve╌ry Song: By Fools, who at once can both Love and despair; And will never leave calling them Cruel and Fair. Which justly provokes me in rhyme to express, The truth that I know of Bonny Black Bess.  

II.  
This Bess of my Heart, this Bess of my Soul,  
Has a Skin white as Milk, but Hair black as a Coal;  
She's plump, yet with ease you may span round her Wast,  
But her round swelling Thighs can scarce be embraced:  
Her Belly is soft, not a word of the rest;  
But I know what I mean, when I drink to the best.   

III.  
The ploughman and Squire, the erranter Clown,  
At home she subdued in her Paragon gown;  
But now she adorns the Boxes and Pit,  
And the proudest Town Gallants are forced to submit:  
All Hearts fall a leaping wherever she comes,  
And beat day and night, like my Lord—— s Drums.   

IV.  
But to those who have had my dear Bess in their Arms,  
She's gentle, and knows how to soften her Charms;  
And to every Beauty can add a new grace,  
Having learned how to lisp, and trip in her place:  
And with head on one side, and a languishing Eye,  
To Kill us with looking as if she would die.   John Playford.  

HOw bon╌ny and brisk; Ah! how pleasant and sweet were Jenny and I, whilst my Passion was strong? So eager╌ly each others flamme we did meet, that a minutes delay then appeared to be long. The Vows that I made her, she sealed with a Kiss, till my Soul I had lost in a rapture of Bliss.  

II.  
I vowed, and I thought I could ever have loved,  
Where Beauty and Kindness together I found;  
So sweetly she looked, and so sweetly she moved,  
That I fancied my strength with my joys to abound:  
For the pleasure I gave, she did doubly requited,  
By finding out ever new ways to delight.   

III.  
At last, when enjoyment had put out my Fire,  
My Strength was decayed, and my Passion was done;  
So palled was my Fancy, so tame my Desire,  
That I from the Nymph, very fain would have gone:  
Ah, Jenny! said I, we adore thee in vain;  
For Beauty enjoyed does but burn to disdain.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

AH, false Amin╌tas, can that hour so soon forgotten be, when first I yielded up my power, to be betrayed by thee: heaven knows with how much Innocence, I did my Heart resign unto thy faithless Eloquence, and gave thee what was mine.  

II.  
I had not one Reserve in store,  
But at thy feet I laid  
Those Arms that conquered heretofore,  
Though now thy Trophies made:  
Thy Eyes in silence  told their Tale  
Of Love in such a way,  
That 'twas as easy to prevail,  
As after to betray.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

WHen Thirsis did the splendid Eye of Phillis, his fair Mistress spy; Was ever such a glorious Queen, said he, unless in Heaven seen?  

II.  
Fair Phillis, with a blushing Air,  
Hearing these words, became more Fair,  
Away, said he, you need not take  
Fresh Beauty, you more fair to make.   

III.  
Then with a winning smile and look  
His candid flatteries she took:  
O stay, said he, 'tis done I vow,  
Thersis is Captivated now.   Mr. Pursell.  

TEll me, amyntas, Cloris cries, as she was sitting by him, if there be such a thing as Love, how happ'st we cannot spy him? Because to see a god, quoth he, to Mor╌tals is forbidden; but in thine Eyes even now he lies, and in thy Bo╌som hidden.   

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
I Am no subject unto fate; the power assumed, I give to you: Whether returning Love or Hate, which falls in storms or gentle due.  

II.  
It is my Will which chooseth you;  
Though Tyrant, yet, if I'll obey,  
Obedience is truly due  
To whom I give myself away.   

III.  
I may be born under a Throne,  
A slave, or free, without my Voice:  
But Loving, and Religion,  
Solely depends on my own choice.   

IV.  
The Worlds dimensions are wide;  
My mind not Heaven can confine:  
That outward worship is belied,  
Who inward bows to others shrine.   

V.  
Force may be called Victory;  
Yet only those are overcome,  
Who yield unto an Enemy,  
That is their certain fate and doom.   

VI.  
Thus fettered, I freely Love;  
My choice doth make the conquest shine:  
And 'twill thy power best improve,  
That to thy Subject thou incline.   

VII.  
Who wisely Rules, deserves Command;  
Then keep thee Loyal next thy Heart:  
Elective Monarchs cannot stand,  
Nor Loves, without an equal dart.   Mr. Roger Hill.  

INsult not too much on thy fading success; for all that thou hast, I before did possess: I know, my proud rival, how happy thou art; I know all thy Joys, and each thought of thy Heart: To tempt thee, those pleasures were taken from me, to gain a new Beauty, he'll take them from thee.  Mr. Alph. Marsh, Junior.  

A 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
GOd Cupid for certain, as foolish as blind, to settle his heart upon people unkind; his punishment's just, for not having regard to the gentle Complyer, but ungrateful and hard: And you'l find it for e╌ver like Oracle true, Love will fly the pursuer, the flyer pur╌sue.  John Playford.  

OH! name not the day, least my Senses reprove, and curse my kind Heart from the Knowledge of Love: Ah, the ignorant Fate of a fearful young Lover, when a sign is return'd, not t' have Wit to discover. To delay a kind Nymph from her hour of design, is to dig for a Treasure, and sink in the Mine.  

II.  
The effect of a smile in a vein of discourse,  
'Twixt fear and good will, out to make a divorce:  
Such Items deserves to be well understood,  
Like a Vizardess, that peeps under her Hood.  
Had I known but the minute her joys were upon her,  
She had bid me goodnight, and adieu to her honour.   

III.  
I knew not, alas! the Intrigue of her Art;  
I thought she designed to make sport with my Heart:  
It panted with fear, and leaped so with joy,  
Yet I thought to attempt all my hopes would destroy:  
But since, I'm resolved, e're I prove such a sot,  
The Nymph I'll enjoy, though I die on the spot.    

TO what modest grief is a Lover confined, when the Tongue dares not utter the truth of the Heart: Yet it strengtheners the force in a Generous mind, and makes him still think what his Love would impart: For the more he loves on, the more happy 'twill prove, when he comes to appearance, to pled for his Love.  

II.  
When our Hearts are new kindled to jump at a Beauty,  
But like a French On-set, comes off with a Blast:  
We ought to wait leisure, 'tis civil and Duty,  
Let's Love by degrees, and the longer 'twill last.  
He that jumbles his Love and Enjoyment together,  
Makes 2 Months of Summer, and 10 of could Weather.   

III.  
Kind Love, like a tender and delicate Flower,  
Wants only Improvement to make it endure:  
But so oft 'tis transplanted, which makes it each hour  
So droop and decay, that 'tis almost past cure;  
Unless some fair Nymph, whose enchantments can bring  
To make it refresh, a perpetual spring.    

THe day you wished, arrived at last; you wish as much that it were past: One Minute more, and night will hid the Bridegroom, and the blushing Bride. The Virgin now to Bed does go; take care, oh Youth! she rise not so: She pants and trembles at her doom, and sighs, and wishes thou would come.  

II.  
The Bridegroom comes, he comes apace,  
With Love and Fury in his Face;  
She shrinks away, he close pursues,  
And Prayers and Threats at once does use:  
She softly sighing, begs delay,  
And with her hand puts his away:  
Now out aloud for help she cries,  
And now despairing shuts her Eyes.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

PHillis, oh! turn that Face away, whose splendour but benights my day: Sad Eyes like mine, and wounded Hearts, shun the bright rays which Beauty darts. Unwelcome is that Sun, which pries into those shades where Sor╌row lies.  

II.  
Go shine on happy things, to me  
That Blessing is a misery;  
Whom thy fierce Sun not warms, but burns,  
Like that the sooty Indian turns:  
I'll serve your night, and there confined,  
Wish thee, less fair, or else, more kind.   Mr. Jo. Jackson.  

WHy, O Cupid! so long hast thou shunned me? my disdains, alas, have undone me: Since you've left me to choose at my Pleasure, I have robbed my poor heart of its Treasure. And now I Pine, and Mourn, and all in vain; for the only man I love, alas! is gone.  

II.  
Since you've wounded my heart thus in vain;  
Let my Sighs recall you again:  
I lament my unfortunate hour;  
I blame, and at once bless thy power.  
If by sighs and tears, I may but once restore  
Him into my Arms, or let me love no more.    

BEauty no more shall suffer eclipse, nor jealousy dare to confine the power of those Eyes, or use of those Lips, which nothing but kindness design. Our Ladies shall be as frolic as we; nor shall Husband or Father repined: Our Ladies shall be as frolic as we; nor shall Husband or Father repined.  

II.  
We'll banish the stratagems used by the State,  
To keep the poor Lover in awe;  
Henceforth they themselves shall rule their own fate,  
And desire shall be to them Law:  
Thus they being free from Padlock and Key,  
May with their Reformers withdraw.   

III.  
Where in private we'll teach them the Mysteries of Love,  
And practise that Lecture over;  
till we the fond scruple of honour remove,  
And the end of our Passion discover.  
No Maid shall complain, or Wife sigh in vain,  
For each may be eased by her Lover.   

IV.  
Away with all things that sound like to Laws,  
In this our New Reformation;  
Let the Formalist prate the Good old Cause,  
'tis a general toleration:  
From this time we're free from Vile heresy,  
And a Vizard Excommunication.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

A 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
LOng betwixt hope and fear, Phillis tormented, shunned her own wish, yet at last she consented: But loth that day should her blushes dis╌co╌ver; Come gentle night, she said, Come quickly to my aid; And a poor shamefaced Maid hid from her Lover.  

II.  
Now could as Ice I am, now hot as Fire;  
I dare not tell myself my own desire:  
But let day fly away, and bid night hast her;  
Grant ye kind powers above  
Slow hours to parting Love:  
But when to bliss we move, let them fly faster.   

III.  
How sweet is it to Love, when I discover  
Those flames that burn my Soul, warming my Lover:  
'tis pity Love so true, should be mistaken;  
If that this night he be  
False, or unkind to me:  
Let me die, e're I see, That I'm forsaken.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

A╌ Mintas lead me to a Grove, where all the Trees did shade us; the Sun itself, though it had striven, it could not have betrayed us: The place secured from human Eyes, no other fear allows; but when the Winds that gently rise, do kiss the yielding Bows.  

II.  
Down there we sat upon the Moss,  
And did begin to play  
A thousand wanton Tricks, to pass  
The heat of all the day:  
A-many Kisses he did give,  
And I return'd the same;  
Which made me willing to receive  
That which I dare not name!   

III.  
His charming Eyes no aid required  
To tell his Amorous Tale,  
On her that was already fired,  
'twas easy to prevail:  
He did but Kiss, and clasp me round,  
Whilst those his thoughts expressed;  
And laid me softly on the ground:  
Oh, who can guess the rest.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

WHen a Woman that's Buxom, a Dotard does Wed, 'tis a Madness to think she'd be tied to his Bed: For who can resist a Gallant that is Young, and a Man A╌lamode in his Garb and his Tongue: His Looks have such Charms, and his Language such force; that the drowsy Mechanick's a cuckolded of course.   

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
LO behind a Scene of Seas, under a Canopy of Trees; The fair new golden world was laid sleeping, like a harmless Maid; till alas, she was betrayed: In such shades Urania lay, till Love discovered out a way. And now she cries, some power above, save me from this Tyrant Love.  

II.  
Her poor Heart had no defence,  
But its Maiden innocence;  
In each sweet retiring eye  
You might easily decry  
Troops of yielding beauties fly,  
Leaving rare ungarded treasure  
To the Conquerors will and pleasure.  
And now she cries, &c.   

III.  
Now and then a straggling frown,  
( Through the shade slips up and down)  
Shooting such a piercing dart,  
As would make the Tyrant smart,  
And preserve her Lips and Heart;  
But, alas, her Empires gone,  
Throne, and Temples, all undone.  
And now she cries, &c.   

IV.  
Charm aloft, those stormy Winds,  
That may keep these Golden Mines;  
And let Spaniards Love be tore  
On some cruel Rocky shore,  
Where he'll put forth to Sea no more:  
Least poor conquered Beauty cry,  
Oh, I'm wounded! Oh, I die!  
And then, there is no power above  
Can save me from this Tyrant Love.   Mr. John Banister.  

A╌ Mintas that true hearted Swain, upon a Rivers Bank was laid; where to the pitying Streams he did complain, on Sylvia, that false charming Maid: But she was still regardless of his Pain. O! faithless Sylvia, would he cry, and when he said the Cho. echo did reply, Be kind, or else I die, I die; Be kind, or else I die, I die. Cho. Be kind, or else I die, I die; Be kind, or else I die, I die.  

II.  
A shower of Tears his Eyes let fall,  
Which in the River made impress;  
Then sighed, and Sylvia false would call,  
O cruel, faithless Shepherdess!  
Is Love, with you, become a Criminal?  
Ah! lay aside this needless scorn,  
Allow your poor Admirer some return:  
Consider how I burn, I burn: Consider, &c.   

III.  
Those Smiles and Kisses which you give,  
Remember, Sylvia, are my due;  
And all the Joys my Rival does receive,  
He ravishes from me, not you:  
Ah! Sylvia, can I live, and this believe,  
Insensible are taught to see  
My Languishments, and seems to pity me;  
Which I demand of thee, of thee: Which I demand, &c.   Mr. John Banister.  

A 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
O The time that is past, when she held me so fast; And declared that her Honour no longer could last: When no light, but her languishing Eyes did appear, to prevent all ex╌cu╌ses of Blushes and Fear.  

II.  
When she sighed and unlac'd,  
With such trembling and hast,  
As if she had longed to be closer embraced:  
My Lips the sweet pleasure of Kisses enjoyed,  
While my mind was in search of hide treasure employed.   

III.  
My heart set on fire  
With the flames of Desire,  
I boldly pursued what she seemed to require:  
But she cried, for pity-sake, change your ill mind,  
Pray amyntas, be civil, or I'll be unkind.   

IV.  
Dear amyntas, she cries,  
Then casts down her eyes;  
And in Kisses she gives, what in words she denys:  
Too sure of my Conquest, I purpose to stay,  
Till her freer consent had more sweetened the pray.   

V.  
But too late I begun,  
For her passion was done;  
Now amyntas, she crys, I will never be won:  
Your tears and your courtship no pity can move,  
For you've slighted the critical minute of Love.    

NAy, let me alone, I protest I'll be gone; 'tis a folly to think I'll be subject to one: Never hope to confine a young Gallant to Dine, like a Scholar of Oxford, on nought but the loin. For after enjoyment, our Bellies are full, and the same dish again, makes the Ap╌pe╌tite dull.  

II.  
By your wantoning Art, of a Sigh and a Start,  
You endeavour in vein, to inveigle my Heart;  
For the pretty disguise of your languishing Eyes,  
Will never prevail with my Sinews to rise:  
And 'twas never the Mode, in an Amorous Treat,  
When a Lover has dined, to persuade him to Eat.   

III.  
Then, Betty, the Jest is almost at the best,  
'tis only variety makes up the Feast:  
For when we've enjoyed, and with pleasures are cloyed,  
The Vows that we made, to Love ever are voided.  
And you know pretty Nymph, it was ever unfit  
That a Meal should be made of a Relishing bit.   Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHat Madness it is, to give over our Drinking; when Apollo's quiter Drunk, you may know by his Winking: His Face is on flamme, and his Nose is so read, it predicts he is sleepy and goes Drunk to Bed. Let him Sleep to grow Sober, while we tarry hear, and Drink till the morning appear.   

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
COme away, tother Glass, he's a temperate Ass, that refuses his brimmer of Rhenish; while our Bottles go round, a new way we have found, both our Heads, and our Veins to replenish: We'll be witty and brave, when our Noddles are full, whilst the Sober young Fop is but pru╌dent╌ly dull.  

II.  
Thus with Wenches and Wine  
Our Hearts we'll refine  
From the Dross of the melancholy City;  
We care not a Louse  
For the dull Coffee-house,  
'tis the Tavern that makes a Man Witty:  
Then in spite of misfortunes,  
Thus happy we are,  
In a Jolly brave Soul,  
That's a stranger to care.    

TIs the Grape that dis╌co╌vers the Passionate Lovers, and makes the coy Miss to resign: To the Rose then repair, to Canary, to cheer our Souls, and our Spirits refine.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

I Languish for one that ne're thinks of me; And all my vain hopes now turn to despair: The Complaints which I utter, oh, Love! against thee, are nothing so great as my sufferings are. Then cease by your power, to add to my pain, lest Death by a greater puts an end to your reign.  

II.  
My Sighs and my Tears so privately I  
Do give to a Passion, I ne're will impart;  
That though I am vanquished, and conquered die,  
No one can e're say, that I first lost my Heart:  
Since the torments I feel, I will not discover,  
It ne're shall be said, There dyes a poor Lover.   

III.  
How strangely severe is fate, since I find  
That with all my resistance, I cannot get free  
From a slavery, by which I see I'm designed,  
My dearest Philander, thy Martyr to be:  
O fate! so unkind, to make me esteem  
My death to be welcome, cause given by thee.   Mr. John Banister.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
AH, cruel Eyes! that first inflamed my poor resistless heart; that when I would my thoughts have blamed, they still increase the smart: What power above creates such Love to languish with desire? May some disdain increase my pain, or may the flamme expire.  

II.  
And yet I die to think how soon  
My wishes may return,  
If slighted, and my hope once gone,  
I must in silence mourn:  
Then Tyranness,  
Do but express,  
The Mystery of your power;  
'tis as soon said,  
You'l Love and Wed,  
As studying for't an hour.   

III.  
I yield to Fate, though your fair Eyes  
Have made the power your own;  
'twas they did first, my heart surprise,  
Dear Nymph! 'twas they alone:  
For Honours sake,  
Your heart awake,  
And let your pity move:  
Least in despair  
Of one so fair,  
I bid adieu to Love.    

AWay with the silly blind god, and his Darts, who makes such a bustle, and noise in the Town, with Wounding, surprising, and Breaking of Heart; from the proud Gallant at Court, to the Clown: Some Rebel 'gainst reason, at first did bestow, t'excuse his own Madness, his Folly, and Passion; forged Power on Venus, on Cupid a Bow; when all's but Pria╌pus dressed up in the Fashion.   

A 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
HOw oft have I bid defiance in vain to the little Boy Cupid, to Beauty and Love? How oft have I laughed when I heard men complain, that their Mistress unkind, and unconstant did prove? Yet do what we can, or say what we list, Love is a Passion, which none can resist.   

WHen first my free heart was surprised by desire, so soft was the wound, and so gentle the fire; my sighs was so sweet, and so pleasant the smart, I pitied the Slave, who had ne're lost his Heart. He thinks himself happy and free; but alas! he is far from that heaven which Lovers possess.  

II.  
In Nature was nothing I found to compare  
With the Beauty of Phillis, I thought her so fair:  
A Wit so divine all her sayings did fill;  
A Goddess she seemed, and I thought on her still:  
With a zeal more inflamed, and a passion more true  
Than a Martyr in flames for Religion, can show.   

III.  
More Virtues and Graces I find in her Mind,  
Then the Schools can invent, or gods e're designed:  
She seemed to be mine, by each glance of her Eye,  
If Mortals may aim at a blessing so high.  
Each day, with new favours, new hopes she did give:  
But, alas! what we wish, we too soon do believe.   

IV.  
With aweful respect while I loved and admired,  
But feared to attempt what I so much desired;  
In a moment the life of my hopes was destroyed,  
For a Shepherd, more daring, fell on, and enjoyed.  
But in spite of my fate, and the pains I endure,  
I will try her again in a second Amour.   Mr. Alph. Marsh, Junior.  

WEre Caelia but as Chast as Fair, how could I kiss the Snare; and never be weary of my Cap╌ti╌vi╌tie: But she's a Whore that cools my Blood, Oh! that she were less handsome or more good.  

II.  
Would you believe that there can rest  
Deceit within that Breast;  
Or that those Eyes,  
Which look like Friends, are only spies:  
But she's a Whore; yet sure I lie;  
May there not be, degrees of Chastity?   

III.  
No, no, what means that wanton Smile,  
But only to beguile;  
Thus did the first  
Of Women, make all Men accursed:  
I, for their sakes, give Women o'er;  
The first was false, the fairest was a Whore.   Mr. Isaac Blackwell.  

OF all the gay Ladies that walk the brisk Town, my Sylvia for Beauty has got the Renown; Her carriage, where ever she comes do surprise, she wounds with her Wit and she kills with her Eyes: So Jaunty, so pretty, so full of Delight, she laughs all the day, and loves all the night.  

II.  
She Laughs all the day, and Loves all the night;  
She Sings like an Angel, so moving each strain,  
That she strikes every Nerve, and charms every Vein:  
When she Dances, the wind is not fleeter than she;  
The grave and precise her motion admire,  
Even Judges and Priests at her feet would expire.    

A. 2. Voc Cantus& Bassus.  
LOng since, fair, Clorinda, my passion did move, whilst under my friendship I covered my Love; but now I must speak, though I fear 'tis in vain; 'tis too late in my death, to desemble my pain: In telling my Love, though I fear she'll deny; I shall ease my sad heart, and more qui╌et╌ly die.  

II.  
My Thoughts are so tender, my Tongue cannot tell  
What bliss would be yours, could you Love half so well:  
Let the thing with a title our property prove,  
Let him have the show, and let me have the Love.  
I've loved you so long, that if now you delay,  
You'l owe me so much as you never can pay.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
AH, Phillis! would the gods decree, that you might Love, and none but me, I'd quit what e're I loved before, and ne're importune Heaven more: Heaven a╌bove, my hopes would be, to be beloved again by thee.  

II.  
Ah! should my Phillis cruel prove,  
And with disdain receive my Love;  
Though all my hopes were then in vain,  
I'd look on you, and hope again;  
And Martyr-like, charmed with your cause,  
Glory to suffer by your laws.   

III.  
Though some by chance procure their peace,  
My Love before my Life shall cease;  
My Love's Immortal as my soul,  
Which fate by death cannot control:  
Should you affect to across my love,  
My death my constancy should prove.   Mr. Twist.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHen first I saw fair Caelias Face, so full of Majesty and Grace, As potent Armies do attack the place, which can't resistance make: So she by power has made her way unto my heart, and there does stay, re╌cei╌ving homage, which I pay.  

II.  
The force of Love, who can withstand;  
It is in vain to countermand,  
What envious Cupid has decreed;  
Then my poor heart must ever bleed,  
till you, fair Nymph, by pity moved,  
My Passion having once approved,  
Can Love, as now you are beloved.   

III.  
It would be gallantry in Love,  
If Caelia would the act approve;  
Where she so long has caused a smart,  
There to bestow, at length, her heart.  
In doing this, fair Saint, you may  
From your blessed name, derive a day,  
When Lovers unto you shall pray.   Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
FIE, Cloris, 'tis sil╌ly to sigh thus in vain; 'tis sil╌ly to pi╌ty the Lovers you've slain: If still you continue your Slaves to deride, the Compassion you feign, will be taken for Pride: And sorrow for sin, can never be true, in one that does daily commit it a new.  

II.  
If, while you are Fair, you resolve to be coy,  
You may hourly repent, as you hourly destroy;  
Yet none will believe you, protest what you will,  
That you grieve for the dead, if you daily do kill.  
And where are our hopes, when we zealously wooe,  
If you vow to abhor what you constantly do.   

III.  
Then, Cloris, be kinder, and tell me my fate,  
For the worst I can suffers to die by your hate:  
If this you design, never fancy in vain  
By your Sighs and your tears, to recall me again:  
Nor weep at my Grave, for, I swear, if you do,  
As you now laugh at me, I will then laugh at you.    

WRong not your lovely Eyes! my Fair, so much as to suspect the charms that on a╌no╌thers are, can make me yours neglect: Wrong not, my Love! where you a╌dore, with such re╌spect to say, that this respect is just no more than I to others pay.  

II.  
A general desire to please,  
Dwells in all human kind;  
Such, I am sure, would you confess,  
In your own Heart you find:  
And if the light of others Eyes,  
To follow, I appear,  
'tis that to yours a Sacrifice  
More worthy I may bear.   

III.  
Your Beauty thus, more triumph gains,  
I nothing from it take;  
But only of your glorious Chains,  
myself more worthy make:  
Then is this fear of yours but vain,  
You cannot be betrayed;  
What ever Trophies I can gain,  
Must at your feet be laid.   

IV.  
Let other Beauties apprehended  
To lose their Lovers Heart;  
But you have charms, that may pretend  
To scorn Loves utmost art:  
To others therefore, you, the show  
Of Love may well endure;  
Since only yours my heart, you know,  
In your own Eyes secure.   Mr. Matthew lock.  

AH, fading Joy! how quickly art thou past, yet we thy ruin hast? And what too soon would die, help to destroy; as if the cares of human life were few, we seek out new, And follow Fate, which will too fast pursue. In vain does Natures bounteous hand suppy what pevish Mortals to themselves deny. See how, on every bough the Birds express in their wild Notes, their happiness: Not anxious, how to get or spare, they on their Mother Nature lay their care. Why then should Man, the Lord of all below, such troubles choose to know, as none of all his subjects undergo?  CHORUS. A. 3. Voc. 
HArk! hark! the Wa●ers fall, fall, fall; and with a murmuring sound, dash, dash, against the HArk! hark! the Waters fall, fall, fall; and with a murmuring sound, dash, dash, against the HArk! hark! the Waters fall, fall, fall; and with a murmuring sound, dash, dash, against the ground, to gen╌tle Slumbers call. ground, to gen╌tle Slumbers call. ground, to gen╌tle Slumbers call.  Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

SInce, Phillis, we find we grow so inclined, that we dare not bid Love quiter de╌fiance; Yet let us be wise, and with freedom advice so to make up a triple alliance: For why should we lose, what most Creatures use, the freedom of Natures great Charter; Let us use Love as Chance, not as god of Romance, and die like the Fool, or the Martyr.  

II.  
We'll use Love no more,  
Than our humour or store  
Will prove able to pay, or allow:  
He ll then scorn all dodging,   

And fear no Goal made by a vow:  
Nor shall we be hurled,  
Like the rest of the World,  
Into Madness, by being so jealous.   

III.  
Let us laugh at all rumour,  
And ne're spoil good humour,  
Like fanatics, by seeming too zealous.  
Love mean does appear,  
When by vow or by fear  
It seems fettered by Justice or Duty:  
'tis more glory for you  
To keep Love still true,  
By force of your Wit, and your Beauty.    

WHen I shall leave this clod of day; when I shall see that happy day, that a could Bed, a winding Sheet, shall end my Cares, my Griefs, and Tears; And lay me silent at my Conqu'rors feet: When a dear Friend shall say, He's gone, alas! he's left us all alone: I saw him gasping, and I saw him strive in vain, amid his pain; His Eye-strings breaking, and his falling Jaw: Then shall no Tears bedew my Hearse, no sad uncomfortable Verse my unlamented death shall shade: He, who alive, did never grieve, how can he be less merry in the Grave. Then Friends, for a while, be Merry without me; And as fast as you die, come flocking about me: In Gardens and Groves, our day Revels we'll keep, and at night my Theorbo shall Rock you asleep: So happy we'll prove, that Mortals above, shall envy our music, shall en╌vy our Love.   

WHat Sighs and Groans now fills my breast, and suffers me to take no rest for my Carmelia? Oh! she's gone, and left me here to Mourn alone: But, is she dead? then I'll go see, if in her Grave there's room for me.  

II.  
O cruel Fate! that so designed  
To take her, but leave me behind:  
And you, O Death! whose quick Alarms  
Hath snatched her rudely from my Arms,  
Could you not find a way for me  
To my Carmelia's Breast to flee.   

III.  
die, then Anselmo! why shouldst stay,  
Since 'tis Carmelia showed the way?  
O die, more faster, do not live  
That dearest Nymph for to survive!  
O now, dear soul, I come, I fly,  
Always to live with you, I die.   Mr. Robert Smith.  

FOrgive me Jove! or if there be a kinder god above, forgive a Re╌bel to the power of Love: Here me, kind Cupid, and accept my Vow, mine, who devoutly at thine Altar bow: O! hear me now, Dorin╌da, hear; and what I've done amiss, pardon, and seal that pardon with a Kiss. Stay! me-thinks the shelting Saint, Kindly echoes my complaint: Look! I fancy, I descry pity dropping from her Eye; Hark! she says, Philander, live, all thy Errors I forgive: And now, ah me! to repent I begin, that against so much goodness I ever should sin; But never again, oh! never will I offend my Dorinda, for sooner I'll die.  Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

IS Caeladon unkind! it cannot be; or is he so unconstant grown, to slight my Vows and break his own? No, oh no! forbid it heaven, it cannot be: Then my good Angel, whether, whether, whether is he fled? Tell me, oh, tell me softly! Is he dead? Ah prophetic soul, forbear, least I languish in despair; No, my heart, when e're he dies, in the pain must sympathise; since my Soul and his are one, I cannot live or die alone. Flo╌rel╌la forbear to distrust or repined, since his love and his sufferings are equal with mine: And when he returns, If ever again; we'll Kiss away Sorrow, and Laugh away Pain.  Mr. James Hart.  

IF languishing Eye, without language can move, I have long  told my Phillis, I die for her Love: Ah, pity that Passion, which words cannot speak! could I tell what I feel, my poor heart would not break.  

II.  
I pled not desert, for the Beauty I serve;  
But 'tis nobler to give what none can deserve:  
In the crowd of my Rivals, who sigh and adore,  
None merit you less, or can value you more.   

III.  
To purchase a Smile, or a glance from your Eyes,  
Both my Fortune and Life were too little a prise:  
But if to desert you can only be kind,  
Like Heaven, you must to yourself be confined.   

IV.  
All joys are so ordered by Natures great doom,  
That what e're we possess from another must come:  
Then, Phillis, what pleasure with me may you prove,  
What's wanting in worth, is supplied by my Love.   

V.  
Our life is uneasy, and sullen our state,  
every Minute is angry, and full of debate:  
But kind was the power, who, our quiet to keep,  
Sent Love to relieve us, and lay us asleep.   

VI.  
In Oceans of Care, though against Tide we Sail,  
Yet our Love from behind us supplies a fresh gale:  
The Passage is pleasant, but, ah! 'tis too short;  
Let us live while we may, we must part at the port.   Mr. Isaac Blackwell.  

AH! what shall we do, when our Eyes are surrounded with Beauties, like you! our Hearts must be wounded: If we fly from the War, your darts do o're-take us; and if we stay there, your Captives you make us. Engaging or flying, we are sure to be slain; then who is so mad such a Fight to maintain?  

II.  
And yet, Oh how sweet are the wounds of your glances!  
Then Nobly we'll meet, though we fall by your launces:  
When your Smiles do evince, that our death will be pleasant,  
Better die like a Prince, than Live like a Peasant.  
If engaging or flying, we are certain to die,  
'tis Courage to Fight, and Folly to Fly.    

DORINDA Lamenting the loss of her amyntas.  
ADieu to the Pleasures and Follies of Love; for a Passion more Noble my Fancy does move: My Shepherd is Dead, and I Live to proclaim, in sorrowful Notes, my amyntas his Name. The Wood-Nymphs reply, when they hear me complain, Thou never shalt see thy A╌min╌tas again: For Death has befriended him, Fate has de╌fended him; None, none alive, is so happy a Swain.  

II.  
You Shepherds and Nymphs, that have danced to his lays,  
Come help me to sing forth amyntas his Praise;  
No Swain for the Garland darest with him dispute,  
So sweet were his Notes while he sang to his Lute:  
Then come to his Grave, and your kindness pursue,  
To wove him a Garland of Cypress, and Yew:  
For Life hath forsaken him,  
Death hath o're-taken him;  
No Swain again will be ever so true.   

III.  
Then leave me alone to my wretched Estate,  
I lost him too soon, and I loved him too late;  
You echoes, and Fountains, my witnesses prove,  
How deeply I sigh for the loss of my Love:  
And now of our Pan, whom we chiefly adore  
This favour I never will cease to Implore;  
That now I may go above,  
And there enjoy my Love;  
Then, Then, I never will part with him more.   Mr. James Hart.  

THe Delights of the Bottle, and the Charms of good Wine, To the power and the Pleasures of Love must resign; Though the Night in the Joys of good Drinking be past, The Debauches but till the next morning doth last: But Loves great Debauch is more lasting and strong, for that often lasts a Man all his Life long.  

Love and Wine are the Bonds that fasten us all,  
The World, but for these, to Confusion would fall:  
Were it not for the Pleasure of Love and good Wine,  
Mankind for each trifle their Lives would resign.  
They'd not value dull Life, nor would live without thinking,  
Nor would Kings Rule the World, but for Love and good Drinking.   Mr. Matthew lock.  

AH, how long have I fed my desires, with the hopes you'd be kinder at last: But in vain have I striven, to persuade you to Love; till the pleasure of Courtship is past. Yet I will not, I cannot, ex╌tin╌guish my Fire; but I must, I must e╌ver, for e╌ver admire.  

II.  
You Command me to Love you no more;  
'tis a Law which I cannot obey:  
For when ever I try,  
I am caught by your Eye,  
That opposes what ever you say.  
You may blame me for that  
Which I cannot give o'er;  
But in spite of your frown,  
I must ever adore.    

I Must confess, not many Years ago, 'twas death when e're my Mistress answered, No; Then was I subject to her Female Yoke, and stood or fell by every word she spoken: But now I find th' adjectives of Love to be, nought but the Follies of our In╌fan╌cie.  

II.  
I can a Rich and handsome Lady Court,  
Either for my Convenience, or for Sport;  
But if the one be Proud, or th' other Coy,  
I will not break my Sleep for such a Toy:  
My Heart is now for all Assaults prepared,  
And cannot be Commanded or ensnared.   

III.  
No Eunuch can more unconcern'dly brook  
The Glances of the most bewitching Look;  
Yet if my Miss be Wantonly inclined,  
None can be more Obliging, none more Kind:  
Enjoyment now has taught me how to prise  
What only they that know, not Idolize.   Mr. William Turner.  

A Northern Song, to a Northern Tune.  
SIt thee down by me, mine own Joy, Thou'z quiter kill me, shouldst thou prove coy: shouldst thou prove Coy and not Love me; Oh! where should I find out sik a yan as thee.  

II.  
Ize been at Wake, and Ize been at Fare,  
Yet ne're found yan with thee to compare:  
Oft have I sought, but ne're could find  
Sik Beauty as thine, couldst thou prove kind.   

III.  
Thouz have a gay gone and go foyn,  
With silver Shoon thy Feet sall shoyn:  
With foyn'st Flowers thy Crag Ize Crown,  
Thy pink petticoat sall be laced down.   

IV.  
Weez yearly gang to the Brook side,  
And Fishes catch as they do glayd:  
Each Fish thyn Prisoner then sall be,  
Thouz catch at them, and I'ze catch at thee.   

V.  
What mun we do when Scrip is fro?  
Weez gang to the Houze at the Hill broo,  
And there weez fray and eat the Fish;  
But 'tis thy Flesh makes the best dish.   

VI.  
Ize Kiss thy cherry Lips, and praise  
awe the sweet features of thy Face;  
Thy Fore-head so smooth, and lofty doth rise,  
Thy soft ruddy Cheeks and pratty black Eyes.   

VII.  
Ize lig by the awe the could Night,  
Thouz want nothing for thy delight:  
Thouz have any thing if thouz have me,  
And sure Ize have something that sall please thee.    

A Northern Song. A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WIlly was so blithe an Lad, ne'an like was in the Town; at Wake and Wassel Willy had for Dancing chief Renown: He pitched the Bar, and hurled the Stean, n●'a man could him out gang; And if he stave with a╌ny man, he gard him lig a long.   

SInce Caelia's my foe, to a desert I'll go, where some River for ever shall echo my Woe: The Trees will appear more relenting than her; In the Morning adorning each Leaf with a Tear. When I make my sad moan to the Rocks all a╌lone, from each Hollow will follow a pi╌ty╌ful groan: But with silent disdain, she requites all my pain, to my Mourning re╌tur╌ning no Answer a╌gain.  

II.  
Then, Caelia, Adieu; when I cease to pursue,  
You'l discover no Lover, was ever so true;  
Your sad Shepherd flies, from those dear Cruelties,  
Who not seeing his being, decays and he dies:  
But 'tis better to run, the Fate we can't shun,  
Than for ever, endeavour, for what can't be won.  
What, ye Gods, have I done, That amyntas alone,  
Is so treated, and hated, for Loving but one!    

HOw large an extent has Loves Empire and Throne, that not Heaven nor Earth will its power dis╌own: The Gods so respect it, they let it take place, while Mortals adore it in each pretty Face. The Contents of this World, and the Blessings above, do Harmonize all but an echo of Love; should Love in a frolic, but once take its flight, the Poets themselves would forget how to writ.  

II.  
Though Love be a Jewel, yet Ladies take care  
How you meet with corrupt and adulterate Ware:  
There's Love out of Fashion, that's ready to die;  
But your Love in the Mode, has Intrigues by the by.  
Though the vain Idle humour of Fashion or Wit,  
Condemns to what Honour is proud to submit;  
'tis the Passion heroic, Obliging and Just,  
That makes Love Immortal, and Blossoms in the Dust.   Mr. William Turner.  

I Heard a young Lover in ter╌ri╌ble pain, from which, if he pleased he might soon be released; He vowed and he Swore again and again, he could not out-live the turmoils of his Breast; But, alas, alas, the brisk Lover I found, knew little, how could Love would prove under Ground. Why should I believe, prithee Love, tell me why, where flesh and blood must needs give me the lie: Let them rant while they will, and their De╌sti╌nies brave, they'l find their flames dwindle on this side the Grave. 'tis true, all addresses are purposely made, to be huddl'd to Bed, but not with a Spade.  Mr. William gregory.  

The Humors of the Town.  
OH, how I abhor the tumult and smoke of the Town; the clamours of War, the glittering Court, the fraudulent Gown: The Suburb Debauches, the Cheats of the City, the rattling of Coaches, and the noise of the men they call Witty. But give me the man from all Va╌ni╌ty free; with good store of Land, and a Country command, who Honest dares be, who Justice dares do, and the Nation would serve, and ne're from his true Country Principles swerve; This, this is the Man for me. Whilst the fluttering vain Gallant in London consumes his Estate in rich clothes and Perfumes, and makes his Face shine with Burgandine Wine, and on Punck or on bawd spends his Youth and his Wealth, while such shall his Wit and his Bounty applaud. Give me the good Man that lives on his own Grounds, and within his own bounds, h'as room for his Hawks and his Hounds; can feast his own Tenants with Fowls and with Fishes, and from his own Plenty with good store of Dishes; and not with damned Wine, but with good English Ale, o'er their faithful hearts can prevail; and nothing to others do owe, but from his own House hears his own Oxen Low, and his own Sheep Bleat, whilst the grateful sounds sweet echoes repeat: This, this is the Man that is truly called Great.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

A DIALOGUE between two Shepherdesses and a Shepherd.  First Shepherdess. 
A Heart in Loves empire, though Jocund and Blythe, from Cares and from Fears can never be free; 'tis said that with Pleasure we Languish and Sigh: But for all can be urged, there's nothing can be so pleasant, so pleasant as our Li╌ber╌tie.  2d Shepherdess. 
None are more happy, nor none are more blessed than whom Love does inspire with a gentle soft Fire; when either do sigh, and neither can rest, how pleasant their Panting, how sweet their desire. Love is a Blessing, though counted a pain, for take away Love, no Pleasures rem●in.  Shepherd. 
To submit to Loves Law, Ah! how sweet it would be; If in Love we could but fi╌de╌li╌ty see: But, O Rigour extreme! O Fate too unkind! A Shepherdess faithful, no Man can find; and this faithless Sex so unconstant doth prove, they ought not to Live, or ought not to Love.  CHORUS together. triple. 
Let's permit the soft fire to inflame our Desire; Ah! how pleasant, how pleasant is Love, when two hearts faithful do prove: Ah! how pleasant, how pleasant is Love, when two hearts faithful do prove.  Bass. 
Let's permit the soft fire to inflame our Desire; Ah! how pleasant, how pleasant is Love, when two hearts faithful do prove: Ah! how pleasant, how pleasant is Love, when two hearts faithful do prove.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

WHen Caelia, my heart did surprise, in an Ocean of grief my fair Goddess did rise; And like crystal desolv'd, the Tears flowed from her Eyes: From her beautiful Cheeks all the Ro╌ses withdrew; and she looked like a Lil╌ly o'er la╌den with due.  

II.  
How sweet did her sorrows appear,  
How I trembled and sighed, and for every Tear  
Made a Vow to the Gods, and a Prayer to her.  
O, how soft are the wounds, we receive from the fair;  
But the Joys and the Pleasures there's none can declare.   

III.  
O Love, let us still ware thy Chain,  
Let no passion but Love in our Fancies e're reign;  
Let us often be cured, and ne're freed from our pain:  
All the pleasures of Wine to the sense are confined,  
But 'tis Love is the noblest delight of the mind.    

DOwn with this Love, that has made such a pother, this Jack with a lantern that leads us a round; till with dull Marriage, we cheat one another, for Joys that do vanish, as soon as they're found: Repent ye proud Nymphs, for your Tricks shall not pass; We'll change no more Gold, and good Stones for your Glass.  

II.  
While so severely you rail at the Pleasure,  
And kill the poor Lover, that's at your command;  
You, like physicians, turn head from the Treasure,  
But, Oh, how you grasp what is put in your hand.  
Repent ye proud Nymphs, for your Tricks shall not pass;  
We'll change no more Gold and good Stones for your Glass.   

III.  
When the short Minute we Sigh for, is over,  
The Nymph is more kind, and more brisk than before;  
But how dejected and dull is your Lover,  
To find all his Passion has purchased no more.  
Repent ye proud Nymphs, for your Tricks shall not pass;  
We'll give no more Gold and good Stones for your Glass.   Mr. Alp. Marsh.  

LOng, by disdain, has Caelia striven, To conquer Strephon's hap╌less Love; But still in vain, in vain the strives, amid a Thousand pains, it lives.  

II.  
Too fierce unquiet cares a prey  
His love grows, as his hopes decay;  
And still with Prayers and Tears, and Vows,  
His fair tormenter he pursues.   

III.  
All ways, all times, the wretch has tried,  
In her best humours been denied;  
When pity did good Nature aid,  
With all the tenderness it had.   

IV.  
When reason against fancy striven  
With powerful arguments for Love;  
Such Love as she must needs esteem,  
And like, had it not come from him.   

V.  
But, Ah, how can she give despair,  
While she so charming is and fair?  
Still her sharp Answers will be born,  
Her Eyes more force have than her Scorn.    

NAy, prithee no more of this Love Maskarade; since all sorts of fops are grown old in the Trade: All the Pleasures are gone, and the Cheat so well known, That 'twill ru╌in more Lovers than e╌ver it made. If you think your a Wit, and would fain have me know it; you must Leave this dull Road of the o╌ver-ridd Po╌et.  

II.  
Alexis, and Damon, and Twenty Swains more,  
Have been Sighing and Vowing, Ten thousand times o'er;  
Let me die, and all that is insipped and flat,  
And your Courtships as serious to every Whore:  
O, thou Charming Divine, and Oh sweet pretty Creature  
Is so old, the Amours of a cobbler looks greater.   

III.  
You torture a Song, till you make the Ears ache,  
Your Alamode Wit, from the Play-House you take;  
And are Airy and bold, whilst the borrowed Stock hold,  
But more Mouth than a disciplined Munky you make.  
When 'tis spent, and with Cringes and new fashioned Curt'sies,  
Or the price of your Trappings, make up your Discourses.   

IV.  
These shallow designs, and the plots that you cast,  
Will never prevail o'er a Woman that's Chast;  
And the Wench so well knows where to take all your blows,  
That she turns your own wepon against you at last:  
If such humorous folly can raise Love in any,  
Scaramouch shall be sooner preferred than his Zanye.   Mr. Alph. Marsh.  

A DIALOGUE between NATURE and SORROW.  Nature. 
O Sorrow, Sorrow! say where dost thou dwell?  Sorrow. 
In the lowest Room of Hell.  Nature. 
Art thou Born of Human Race?  Sorrow. 
No, No, I have a Furies Face.  Nature. 
Art thou in City, Town, or Court?  Sorrow. 
I to every place resort.  Nature. 
O Why into the World was Sorrow sent?  Sorrow. 
Men afflicted best repent.  Nature. 
What dost thou feed on?  Sorrow. 
Bro╌ken sleep.  Nature. 
What tak'st thou pleasure in?  Sorrow. 
To weep, to sigh, to sob, to pine, to groan, to wring my hands, to sit alone.  Nature. 
Oh, when! Oh, when shall Sorrow quiet have?  Sorrow. 
Ne╌ver, ne╌ver, ne╌ver, ne╌ver, till she find à Grave.  Mr. Robert Smith.  

CELADON on DELIA's Singing: A Pastoral.  Celadon. 
O Delia! for I know 'tis she, I know 'tis she; for nothing less could move my tuneless Heart, than something from above: I hate all earthly Harmony, Hark! Hark! ye Nymphs and Soft. Satyrs all a round; Hark! how the baffled echo faints and dies, faints and dies: See how the winged Soft. Quoire all gas╌ping lies, at the Me╌lo╌dious Sound; Mark while she Sings, how they droop, and flag their Wings. angelic Delia, Sing no more; Thy Song's too great for Mortal Ear; Thy charming Notes we can no longer bear: O then in pity to the World, give o'er, and leave us stupid, as we were before. Fair Delia, take the fatal choice, to veil thy Beauty, or suppress thy Voice; His Passions thus poor Ce╌la╌don betrayed when first he saw, when first he heard, he heard the lovely Maid.   

CHORUS. A. 3. voc. CANTUS.  
FAir Delia, take the fatal choice, to veil thy Beauty, or suppress thy Voice; His Passions thus poor Cel╌a╌don betrayed, when first he saw, when first he heard, he heard the lovely Maid.   

A. 3. vo●. MEDIUS.  
FAir Delia take the fatal choice, to veil thy Beauty, or suppress thy Voice; His Passions thus poor Celadon betrayed, when first he saw, when first he heard, when first he heard, he heard the lovely Maid.   

A. 3. voc. BASSUS.  
FAir Delia take the choice, to veil thy Beauty, or suppress thy Voice; His Passions thus poor Celadon betrayed, when first he saw, when first he heard, when first he heard, he heard the lovely Maid.  Mr. William gregory.  

A DIALOGUE between THIRSIS and DORINDA.  Dorinda. 
WHen Death shall part us from these Kids, and shut up our divided Lids, Tell me, Thirsis, prithee do, whether thou and I shall go?  Dorinda. 
Oh! Where is't?  Thirsis. 
To the E╌li╌zium.  Thirsis. 
A Chast  Dorinda. 
I know no way but one, our Home: Is our Cell E╌li╌zium? Soul can never miss't.  Thirsis. 
Turn thine Eye to yonder Sky, there the Milky-way doth lie; 'tis a sure, but rugged way that leads to E╌ver╌lasting day:  Dorinda. 
There Birds may Nest, but how shall I, that have no Wings, and cannot Fly!  Thersis. 
Do not sigh, fair Nymph, for Fire has no Wings, yet doth aspire; till it hit against the Pole; Heav'ns the Center of the  Dorind●. 
But in E╌li╌zium how do they pass E╌ter╌ni╌ty a╌way? Soul.  Thirsis. 
Oh, there is neither Hope nor Fear; there is no wolf, nor Fox, nor Bear; No need of Dog to fetch our stray, our Light-foot we may  Dorinda. 
Oh give away; No Oat-pipe needful, There thy Ears may Sleep with music of the spheres. sweet! Oh sweet! how I my future State, by silent thinking, antedate! I prithee let us spend our time to come in talking of E╌li╌zi╌um.  Thirsis. 
Then I'll go on. There Sheep are full of swee╌test Grass, and softest Wool; There Birds sing Consort, Garlands grow, cool Winds do whisper Springs do flow; There always is a ri╌sing Sun, and Day is e╌ver but begun; Shepherds  Dorinda. 
Ah me! Ah there bear e╌qual sway; And every Nymphs a Queen of May. me!  Dorinda. 
I'm Sick, I'm Sick, and fain would die; Convince me now that this is  Thirsis 
Dorinda, Why dost cry? true, by bidding with me, all adieu  Thirsis. 
I cannot live without thee, I, I'll for thee, much more with thee die.  CHORUS together. Dorinda. 
THen let us give Clo╌ril╌lo charge o'th Sheep, and thou and I'll pick Poppies, and them steep in  Thirsis. 
THen let us give Cloril╌lo charge o'th Sheep, and thou and I'll pick Poppies, and them steep in Wine, and drink on't even till we Weep, till we Weep; So shall we smoothly pass away, Wine, and Drink on't even till we Weep, we Weep; So shall we smoothly pass a╌way, away, a╌way, a╌way in Sleep. a╌way, a╌way in Sleep.  Mr. Matthew lock.  

TOM a Bedlam. For a Bass alone.  
FOrth from the dark and dismal Cell, or from the deep a╌biss of Hell, Mad Tom ●s come to view the World again, to see if he can Cure his destemper'd Brain: Fears and Cares oppress my Soul; Hark, how the angry Furies howl; Pluto laughs, and proserpina is glad, to see poor angry Tom of Bedlam Mad. Through the World I wander night and day, to find my straggling Senses, in an angry mood I met Old Time with his Pentateuch of Tenses; when me he spies, away he flies, for Time will stay for no man; in vain with cries, I rend the Skies, for Pity is not common. could and comfortless I lie, Help, help, oh help, or else I die! Hark, I hear Apollo's Team, the Carman 'gins to whistle; Chast Dia╌na bends her Bow, and the Boar begins to bristle. Come Vulcan with Tools and with Tackles, to knock off my troublesone shackles: Bid Charles make ready his Wain, to bring me my Senses a╌gain.  

II.  
Last Night I heard the Dog star bark,  
Mars met Venus in the Dark;  
Limping Vulcan heat an Iron Bar,  
And furiously made at the great God of War.  
Mars with his Weapon laid about,  
Limping Vulcan had got the Gout;  
His broad Horns did hang so in his light,  
That he could not see to aim his blows aright.  
Mercury the nimble Post of Heaven  
Stood still to see the Quarrel;  
Gorrel-belly'd Bacchus, giantlike,  
Bestrid a Strong-beer Barrel:  
To me he Drank, I did him thank,  
But I could drink no cider;  
He drank whole butts, till he burst his Guts,  
But mine was ne're the wider.  
Poor Tom is very Dry;  
A little Drink, for Charity:  
Hark! I hear Acteon's Hounds,  
The Hunts-man Hoops and Hollows;  
Ringwood, Rockwood, Jowler, Bowman,  
All the chase doth follow.  
The Man in the Moon drinks claret,  
Eats Powder'd-Beef, turnip, and carrot:  
But a Cup of Malligo Sack  
Will fire the Bush at his Back.    

The Town Gallant.  
LEt us Drink and be Mer╌ry, Dance, Joke, and Rejoice, with claret and Sherry, Theorbo and Voice; The changeable World to our Joy is unjust, all Treasure's uncertain, then down with your Dust: In frolics dispose your Pounds, Shillings and Pence, For we shall be nothing a Hundred years hence. We'll Kiss and be free with Mall, Betty, and Nelly, Have Oysters, and Lobsters, and Maids by the Belly; Fish Dinners will make a Lass spring like a flay, Dame Venus( Love's Goddess) was born of the Sea. With Bacchus and with her we'll tickle the sense, For we shall be past it a Hundred Years hence.  

III.  
Your most Beautiful Bit, that hath all Eyes upon her,  
That her Honesty sells for a Hogo of Honour;  
Whose lightness and brightn●ss doth shine in such splendour,  
That none but the Stars are thought fit to attend her,  
Though now she be pleasant and sweet to the sense,  
Will be damnable moldy a hundred years hence.   

IV.  
The Usurer, that in the hundred takes twenty,  
Who wants in his Wealth, and pines in his Plenty;  
Lays up for a season which he shall ne're see,  
The Year of One thousand eight hundred and three.  
His wit and his wealth, his law, learning and sense,  
Shall be turned to nothing a hundred years hence.   

V.  
Your Chancery-Lawyer, who by subtlety thrives,  
In spinning out Suits to the length of three Lives;  
Such Suits which the Clients do wear out in slavery,  
Whilst Ple●der makes Conscience a cloak for his knav'ry.  
May boast of his subtlety in th' Present Tense,  
But Non est inventus a hundred year hence.   

VI.  
Then why Should we turmoil in Cares and in Fears,  
Turn all our tranquillity to Sighs and Tears?  
Let's eat, drink and play, till the Worms do corrupt us,  
'tis certain, that post mortem nulla Voluptas.  
Let's deal with our Damosels, that we may from thence  
Have Broods to succeed us a hundred year hence.   
FINIS.   

Books Printed and Sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple-Church.  
CAnticum Sacra, First set, Latin Hymns for Two and Three Voices: Composed by Mr. Richard Deering, with a Through-Bass for the Organ, in 4 volumes, Folio, price 3 s. 6 d.  
Canticum Sacra, Second Set, Latin Hymns, and English Anthems, for Two Voices to the Organ: Composed by Dr. Gibbons, Dr. Rogers, Mr. Matthew lock, and others, with a Through-Bass for the Organ, in 3 volumes, Folio, price 5 s.  
The psalms of David, as they are Sung in Parish Churches; the Tunes Composed in Four Parts, the Common-Tunes having the Through Bass under each Tune, as proper to Sing to the Organ, Lute, or Viol: To which is added several Hymns for One Voice to the Organ, Printed in one volume in Folio, price stitched 3 s.  
The Treasury of music, containing airs and Dialogues; and short airs for Three Voices; Composed by Mr. Henry, and Mr. William laws, Dr. Coleman, Dr. Wilson, and others; proper to Sing to the Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol; Printed in Three several volumes in Folio, and are all Bound together, price 10 s.  
The Musical Companion, Printed in Two volumes; First, Containing Pleasant and Merry Catches and Rounds for Three Voices; The Second, Containing airs, Songs, Glees, and Dialogues, some for Two, some for Three, and some for Four Voices; Bound in one large volume in Quarto, price 3 s. 6 d.  
An Introduction to the Skill of music, both Vocal and Instrumental, by John Playford; newly Re-printed and enlarged, price bound 2 s.  
The Dancing Master, Containing variety of Country Dances, with plain Rules and Directions for the performing them, with all the several Tunes to each Dance, proper for the Treble-Violin, Printed in Sexto; price Bound 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Recreations, Containing 152 New and choice Lessons for the Lyra-Viol, on various Tunings, with plain and easy Instructions for Begginners, in large Quarto, price stitched 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Hand-Maid, presenting new and pleasant Lessons for the Virginals or Harpsecord, in Copper Plates, in Quarto, price 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Delight, Containing variety of new Lessons and Tunes for the Cithern, with plain and easy Instructions for Beginners; price Bound 1 s. 6 d.  
Apollo's-Banquet for the Treble-Violin, Containing new airs, and Theatre-Tunes, Corants, and Jigg●, with a plain and easy Introduction for Beginners; To which is added the Tunes of French-Dances, used at Court and in Schools. price 1 s. 6 d.  
The Pleasant Companion, a Book for the Flagelet, Containing 60 New airs and Tunes, and also plain and easy Directions for Beginners; price Bound 1 s. 6 d.  
Also there is sold all sorts of ruled Paper for music, and Books ready Bound up.   

Other BOOKS.  
THe Psalms of David, from the New Translation of the Bible turned into Metre, according to the Common Psalms used in Parish-Churches, and to be Sung to those Tunes, By the Reverend Father in God Henry King, D. D. and late Lord Bishop of Chichester, newly reprinted in Octavo, price bound 2 s.  
An Antidote against Melancholy, First Part, Compounded of Witty Ballads, Jovial Songs, and Merry Catches, in Octavo, price Bound 2 s.  
The Cabinet of Mirth, or the Second Part of the Antidote against Melancholy, compounded of Merry Tales, Witty Jests, and Ridiculous Bulls, in Octavo, price Bound 1 s.   

CHOICE airs& SONGS To SING to the Theorbo-Lute or Bass-Viol.  
BEING Most of the Newest airs and Songs, Sung at COURT, And at the public theaters.  
Composed by several Gentlemen of His Majesties music, and others.  
The SECOND BOOK.  
 
LONDON, Printed by Anne Godbid, and are Sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple Church, 1679.   

To all LOVERS of music.  
GENTLEMEN& LADIES,  
YOUR kind Acceptance of my former Collection of the newest and best modish Songs and airs that were then in Town, has encouraged me to undergo the Pains and Charge of Publishing this Second Book, wherein you are presented with most of the Choicest New-Mode Songs, that were Composed since that time by several Eminent MASTERS of His Majesties music. I shall not apologize for their Excellency, the Authors Names, which you will find added to most of them, are sufficient to declare it; and for those that want the Reputation of their Authors, whose Names( through ignorance) are omitted, the Esteem given them by the most skilful Musicians, supplies that defect. Most of the Songs and airs herein contained I received exact Copies of from the Hands of their Authors, to whom I aclowledge myself much obliged, for their Assistance in promoting this Work: And it has been my extraordinary Care, to do them the Justice, and give you the Satisfaction, of having them truly Corrected and well Printed; for which, your Approbation will be a sufficient Recompense, and a farther encouragement to me to present you hereafter with more of this nature; and in the mean time to remain,  
Your Obliged Servant, JOHN PLAYFORD.   

An Alphabetical TABLE of the Songs in this Book.  

A  
AH, how severe is the Nymph I adore Folio. 4  
Ah, Phillis, would the Gods decree Folio. 5  
As Amoret with Phillis sat one evening Folio. 5  
Alone by a Fountain I'll press the could ground Folio. 12  
Ah, Celia, what powerful charms have you Folio. 13  
amyntas, to my grief, I see Folio. 19  
Ah, Charming fair, why must I die? Folio. 33  
As some brave man unmoved doth stand Folio. 34  
Adieu my Cordelia, my dearest, adieu Folio. 43  
As sad Philothea lay melting in grief Folio. 43  
As Celidon and Cloris all along unto one fold Folio. 48   

C  
Cloris, when you disperse your Influence Folio. 32  
Cupid, once when when weary grown Folio. 52  
Cure Nymph, oh, cure your bleeding Folio. 53   

D  
Dear Jockey's gone to the Wood Folio. 12  
Desist all endeavours my heart to 'allure Folio. 29  
Diana's a Nymph, so Chast and so Fair Folio. 46   

F  
Fair Lady, so strong are the Charms of your Eyes Folio. 22  
Forbear, silly heart, you insult but in vain Folio. 28  
farewell the World and mortal Care Folio. 31  
Forgive me kind and gentle Maid Folio. 46   

G  
Give me my Lute, in thee some ease I find Folio. 14  
Give me leave to own a Passion Folio. 32   

H  
How wretched is the Slave to Love Folio. 6  
How cruel is Fortune grown Folio. 9  
How happy and free is the resolute Swain Folio. 11  
How peaceful the Days, how pleasant the Nights Folio. 16  
How subtl'ly Love deals with us Slaves Folio. 16  
How fond's the World to Love a Face Folio. 20  
How happy's the Amorous Pair Folio. 41  
Hold, Tyrant, hold, spare now thy Dart Folio. 44  
How severe is Fate to break a Heart Folio. 47  
Hark how the Songsters of the Grove Folio. 56  
How well doth this Harmonious meeting Folio. 57   

I  
In a soft Vision of the Night Folio. 1  
I cannot change as others do Folio. 8  
In vain poor Coridon did try Folio. 18  
I bring thee, O thou Charming Fair Folio. 20  
I resolve against Cringing and Whining Folio. 26  
I find my Eugenia, I've struggled in vain Folio. 27  
Is it noble, cruel Fair, Folio. 39  
If languishing Eyes without Language can move Folio. 40  
In January last ( a Scotch Song) Folio. 46  
I have languished too long for one Folio. 50  
In yonder Grove Amintor lies Folio. 58   

L  
Long was the Days e're Alexis my Lover Folio. 38  
Lost in the Labyrinth of my Thoughts Folio. 49  
Let's Love and let's Laugh Folio. 51  
Lucinda, since we have confessed Folio. 64   

M  
My dear Philander, it's no offence Folio. 6  
Make hast my Shepherd ( a Dialogue) Folio. 60  
mortal chi fate( An Italian air) Folio. 63   

N  
No, Shepherd, no, rule thy mind Folio. 4  
No, never Planet ruled the skies Folio. 34  
Near the Cou●ts of great Princes Folio. 36  
Now that the could Winter's expelled Folio. 37   

O  
Of fading Delights let the Town Folio. 24  
Oh, the Charms of a Beauty Folio. 26   

S  
Since the Pox and the Plague of Inconstancy Folio. 15  
She's gone, gone for ever Folio. 21  
Scarce had the Rising Sun appeared Folio. 25  
Setting by yonder River side Folio. 35  
Smiling Phillis has an air so engaging Folio. 38  
Some other may with safety tell Folio. 54   

T  
Tell me, O, tell me Folio. 3  
Thou Joy of all Hearts and Delight Folio. 10  
To Cloris what I did pretend Folio. 18  
Thou art so fair, but cruel Folio. 42  
'tis not my Ladies Face that makes me love her Folio. 44  
To Love, how all the World's inclined Folio. 45   

U  
Under the Branches of a spreading three Folio. 30   

w  
When first to Dorinda my heart Folio. 2  
When the Weary Sun was down Folio. 7  
While Cloe full of harmless thoughts Folio. 8  
When first, fair Saint, I thought Folio. 42  
Why does the foolish World mistake Folio. 50  
What hope for us remains Folio. 65   

Y  
Young Phaon striven the Bliss to taste Folio. ●●    

URANIA to PARTHENISSA.  
IN a soft Vision of the Night, my Fancy represented to my sight, a goodly gentle Shade: Me-thought, it moved with a majestic Grace; but the surprising sweetness of its face, made me amazed, made me afraid: I found a secret Shiv'ring in my heart, such as Friends feel that meet or part: Approaching nearer, with a timorous Eye, Is then my Parthenissa dead? said I; Ah, Parthenissa! If thou yet art kind, as kind as when like me, thou mortal were't; when Thou and I had equal share in eithers Heart; How canst thou bear, that I am left behind? Dear Parthenissa! Oh, those pleasant hours that blessed our innocent Amours; when in the common treasury of one breast, all that was thine or mine did rest: Dear Parthe╌nissa! Dear Parthe╌nissa! Friend! What shall I say! Ah, speak to thy U╌ra╌ni╌a! O, envious Death! Nothing but thee I feared; no other Rival could estrange her soul from mine, or make me change: Scarce had I spoken my passionate Fears, and overwhelmed myself in Tears; But Par╌the╌nis╌sa smiled, and then she disappeared.  Mr. Math. lock.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHen first to Dorin╌da my heart I resigned, My Vows they were real, and Passion unfeigned: But she scorned my devoirs, and refused to be kind; tho she loved, tho she loved, when she rashly disdained. But alas, 'twas in vain, for my cowardly zeal, no sooner resisted, began to decay; And all the soft flames a fond Lover doth feel, Like a Ghost that is struck at, did vanish away.  

II.  
Then how cruel, how cruel and harsh was the smart!  
When her Eyes gave me wounds, but would not discover  
The plot of that Passion that played with my heart;  
And seemed to contemn to secure a poor Lover.  
Ah! too, too unjust to her self and to me;  
Thus neither obtained, though we both did adore;  
My heart she had kept, had her Passion been free:  
But now 'tis return'd, I can offer't no more.   

III.  
Yet forced by her virtues, I ne're can repent  
My Devotion, nor court her repulse for the Fate  
That proved so ungentle, and fierce to prevent;  
Our Amours shall grow nulled, and protect me from hate.  
Then far from her sight, to some Grove I'll retire,  
Where she grieves for my loss, I will never remove;  
But sighing, repeat, that I once did admire;  
I'll languish for pity, tho I cannot for Love.   Mr. Forcer.  

A. 2 Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
TEll me, Oh! tell me, some powers that are kind, where I my dearest Astella may find: I wander all day in dark shades of Despair; All night I complain to the pi╌tyless air! Astel╌la, Astel╌la, is all my sad cry! Astel╌la, Astel╌la, the Ecchos reply: But, alas! she's not there; But, alas! she's not there, and her Lo╌ver must die.  

II.  
Why should the Envy of doting old Age,  
The heart of young Lovers to sorrow engage:  
The evening of Life let dull Interest move,  
The Mornings of Youth are for Pleasure and Love.  
Astella, Astella, to Pleasure give way;  
Bright Beauty and Youth sullen time must obey:  
But the Love of Amintor; but the Love of Amintor shall never decay:   Mr. James Hart.  

AH, how severe is the nymph I adore! For my obedience she sleights me the more: Still as she shuns me I closer pursue; So by her slight she has learned to subdue. How endless are the pains I must endure; Since She by flying wounds and shuns the Cure.  

II.  
But how unhappy soever I prove,  
Still I must follow, and still I must love:  
For should I struggle, and break off my chain,  
My freedom would be worse than her disdain.  
Therefore the nobler Fate I will prefer;  
It must be happy, if it come from her.   Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
NO Shepherd, no, rule thy mind; Be not to ill thoughts inclined: No more thy rude Passion move, and ruin poor Miras Love. From thy false, thy deluding Eye my Honour crys, quickly fly; There's danger in Loves delight, but safety lies in my flight.  

II.  
My heart relents and despairs,  
To conquer thy moving Prayers:  
Oh, if thou my loss canst fear,  
Thy Passionate Vows forbear:  
For if Love makes my heart comply,  
My Virtue knows how to die;  
And death, from all scandal clear,  
Is better than Empire hear.   Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
AS Amoret with Phillis sat, one evening on the Plain, And saw the charming Strephon wait to tell the Nymph his pain; The threatening dangers to remove, he whispered in her Ear, Ah, Phillis! if you will not Love, This Shepherd do not hear, this Shepherd do not hear.  

II.  
None ever had so strange an art  
His Passion to convey  
Into a listening Virgins heart,  
And steal her Soul away.  
Fly, fly betimes, for fear you give  
Occasion for your Fate;  
In vain said she, in vain you strive;  
alas! 'tis now to late! alas! 'tis now to late!   Mr. Staggins.  

AH, Phillis, would the gods decree that you should love, and none but me; I'd quit what e're I hoped before, and ne're importune Beauty more: A bliss above my hopes 'twill be to be beloved a╌gain by thee.  

II.  
Should you, my Phillis, cruel prove,  
And with disdain, return my Love:  
Though all my hopes were still in vain,  
I'd look on you, and hope again:  
Or, Martyr like, charmed with the Cause,  
Glory to suffer by your Laws.   

III.  
Though some by chance procure their peace,  
My Life before my Love shall cease;  
My Love's Immortal as my Soul,  
Which fate by death cannot control:  
Should you affect to across my Love,  
My Death my Constancy should prove.   Mr. William Turner.  

HOw wretched is the Slave to Love, who can no la╌sting Pleasures prove; For still they're mixed with pain; when not obtained, restless is the desire; Enjoyment puts out all the Fire, and shows the Love is vain.  

II.  
It wanders to another soon,  
Wanes and increases like the Moon;  
And like her never rests:  
Makes Tides of pleasures  
Now and then of Tears,  
Which ebbs and flows of Joys and Cares,  
In Lovers wavering breasts.   

III.  
But spite of Love, I will be free,  
And triumph in that liberty  
I without that enjoy:  
I'th worst of Prisons  
Ile my body bind,  
Rather than chain my free-born mind  
For such a foolish Toy.   Mr. Forcer.  

MY dear Philander! it's no offence to Love, I'm sure, with Innocence: Poor Cloris vows by all that's good, That Passion ne're shall be withstood: But if you'd only Love an hour, or seek her virtue to devour; Farewell: I'd rather have you die, Than Court me with such Li╌ber╌tie.  

II.  
By this I'll try still your Constancy;  
Now, Will you live? or, Will you die?  
To live, I'd rather have you choose:  
But, if this freedom you abuse,  
Philander, know by Heavens leave,  
I'll sand you restless to your Grave;  
Where you shall so Tormented be,  
You'l wish in vain for to be free.   Mr. James Hart.  

WHen the weary Sun was down, Bathing in the wanton Ocean; My Love that ne're let me alone, raised me to my De╌vo╌tion: But my purpose was prevented by a Nymph that thus lamented: Oh, how long shall Love Torment me! Kill me, Kill me, or content me.  

II.  
He I love does kneel and Pray,  
offering that for which I'm dying;  
Blushing I sigh, and turn away,  
And am bleeding, whilst denying.  
With a careless voice I rally,  
Whilst my heart does blame my folly:  
Oh, that Love was once deceiving,  
Let me die, or let me have him.   Mr. Alphon. Marsh.  

A 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHile Clo╌e full of harmless Thoughts, beneath the Willow lay; Kind Love a comely Shepherd brought to pass the time away: She blushed to be encountered so, and chid the amorous Swain: But as she striven to rise and go, he pulled her down a╌gain.  

II.  
A sudden Passion seized her heart, in spite of her disdain;  
She found a Pulse in every part, and Love in every Vain:  
Oh, Youth! she cried, what charms are these, that conquer and surprise!  
Oh, let me! for, unless you please, I have no power to rise!   

III.  
She faintly spoken, and trembling lay, for fear he should comply;  
But Virgins Eyes their Hearts betray, and give their Tongues the lie.  
Thus she who Princes had denied, with all their pompous train,  
Was in the lucky Minute tried, and yielded to a Swain.   Mr. James Hart.  

I Cannot change, as others do, though you un╌just╌ly scorn; Since that poor Swain that sighs for you, for you a╌lone was born: No, Phillis, no, your heart to move, a surer way I'll try; And to revenge my slighted Love, will still love on, will still love on, and die.  

II.  
When killed with grief amyntas lies,  
And you to mind shall call  
The Sighs, that now unpitty'd rise;  
The Tears that vainly fall:  
That welcome hour that ends his smart;  
Will then begin your pain:  
For such a faithful tender Heart  
Can never break, can never break in vain.   Mr. William Turner.  

HOw cruel is Fortune grown, to turn all my hopes to despair; From Bliss I am head-long thrown, and banished the sight of the Fair: Oh, grant me some pi╌ty kind heaven! to my Sorrow afford some relief; Or let my poor Life be given a Martyr un╌to my Grief.  

II.  
While striving with Care and Pain  
To cure my poor Soul of its smart;  
More Grief the sad Centre gains,  
And sends a deep Sigh from my Heart:  
In vain do I think on Joys,  
Or for Happiness beg, or implore;  
When each cruel moment destroys  
What ever I thought on before.    

YOung Phaon striven the Bliss to taste; but sapph still denied: She Struggled long, the Youth at last, lay panting by her side. Useless he lay, Love would not wait, till they could both a╌gree; They ide╌ly languished in debate, when they should a╌ctive be.  

II.  
At last come ruin me, she cried,  
And then there fell a Tear:  
I'll in thy Breast my Blushes hid,  
Do all that Virgins fear.  
O, that age could loves Rites perform,  
We make Old Men obey;  
They court us long, Youth does but storm,  
And plunder and away.   Mr. John Banister.  

THou Joy of all Hearts, and Delight of all Eyes; Natures chief Treasure, and Beauties chief prise; Look down you'l dis╌co╌ver, here's a faithful young vi╌go╌rous Lo╌ver; With a Heart full as true as e're languished for you; here's a faithful young vi╌go╌rous Lo╌ver.  

II.  
The Heart that was once a Monarch in's breast,  
Is now your poor Captive, and can take no rest;  
'twill never give over,  
But about your sweet bosom will hover;  
Dear Miss let it in,  
Be assured 'tis no sin;  
Here's a faithful young vigorous Lover.   Mr. William Turner.  

HOw hap╌py and free is the Re╌so╌lute Swain, that denies to submit to the Yoke of the Fair: Free from ex╌ces╌ses of pleasure and pain, neither dazzled with hope, nor depressed with de╌spair. He's safe from disturbance, and calm╌ly en╌joys all the Pleasures of Love, without clamour or noise.  

II.  
Poor Shepherds in vain there affections reveal,  
To a Nymph that is peevish, proud, sullen, and coy;  
Vainly do Virgins their Passion conceal,  
For they boil in their grief, till themselves they destroy.  
And thus the poor Darling lies under the Curse,  
To be checked in the Womb, o're-laid by the Nurse.    

A SCOTCH air.  
DEar Jocky's gone to the Wood, and Dame Jenny's gone twa; Dear Jocky's wu'd Court a╌good, But Dame Jenny sa's na: Dame Jenny my Dearest Love; prithee Jenny fancy me; Thou art the blithest bonny girl, and the finest Pearl, that e're Jocky's nine see.  

II.  
When usually had Wo'd her thus, she sa's prithee forbear;  
Thou usually art false I fear, and wadst Jenny ensnare:  
Dame Jenny believe it not, that thy usually is untrue;  
For I do swear by au' thats good, in this pleasant Wood,  
And by Bonnet that's Blue.   

III.  
Why sued I not now believe, when dear usually d'us Swear  
By Bonnet, and au' thats good, that e're usually s'al wear:  
Come let us gang he'm my Dear, and be merry there a while,  
I love thee hearty my Joy, th'art the only Boy  
On whom Jenny s'al Smile.   Mr. William gregory,  

ALone by a Fountain I'll press the could Ground; the Rocks and the Mountains my grief shall rebound: But the Man that's so dear, I'll ne╌ver dis╌co╌ver; lest the echo should hear, and repeat to my Lover; The Pains that invade me forbearing to tell, there's none can upbraid me of Loving too well: If my charms cannot win him, his passion to show; 'tis enough, that I Love him, too much he should know.  Mr. Simon Pack, Gent.  

AH; Cae╌li╌a, what powerful charms have you, that with a look could so my heart subdue, and at first sight impose a Law on me, against my fun╌da╌men╌tal Li╌ber╌tie: I looked, and loved; Oh, fatal was that day! I looked until I looked my heart a╌way.  

II.  
And yet upon your Brow you wore a Frown,  
What would sereneness then and smiles have done;  
In vain, in vain we host a free born Soul,  
When Beauty can so easily control:  
When every glance does liberty expose,  
And with a Look, we native freedom loose.   

III.  
You bid me now resume my liberty,  
alas! I cannot, if I would be free:  
Should Fate the unwish'd power bestow, yet still  
Having that power, I should want the will.  
Where Love so absolute a Monarch reigns,  
They court their Fetters,& grow proud of Chains.    

A SONG in the Play of CIRCE.  
GIve me my Lute, in thee some ease I find; Eu╌ri╌dice is dead, and to that dismal Region fled, where all is sad and gloomy as my mind: The World has nothing worth a Lovers care; None now by Ri╌vers weep, Verse and the Lute are both a Sleep: All Women now are false, are false, and few are fair. Thy sceptre, Love, shall o'er the Aged be; Lay by your useless darts, for all the Young will guard their hearts, and scorn thy fading Empire, taught by me: Beauty, the Thracian Youth no more shall mourn; The Young shall sigh no more, but all my noble Verse adore; It has more Graces, Graces, than the Queen of Love.  Mr. John Banister.  

SInce the Pox, or the Plague of In╌con╌stan╌cy, Reigns in most of the Women o'th Town; what ri╌di╌cu╌lous Fop would trou╌ble his Brains, to make the lewd Devils lie down: No more in dull Rhyme; or some hea╌vi╌er strain, will I of the Jades, or their Gilting complain; My court I will make to things more divine; The Pleasures of Friendship, CHORUS. Freedom and Wine. We'll Venus adore for a Goddess no more, that old Lady Whore; But We'll Venus, &c. Bacchus we'll court, who doth Drinking support; Let the World sink or swim, Sirrah! fill to the Brim.  Mr. Henry Purcel.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
HOw subt'ly Love deals with us slaves, when each look does increase our desires; at each Amorous view, Love rallys a new; and fans the kind flamme still up higher: But when we are come to embrace, and Loves Organs in action emply; Our pangs they are such, that scarce can we touch e're we faint, and fall breathless away.  

II.  
Then panting in respite we lie,  
And muse on the pastime began;  
till by powerful thought,  
With pleasure refraught,  
We take heart to be sick once again.  
Thus our pleasant convulsion renew,  
And in sweetest succession go on;  
Till our fits so dull grow,  
And do follow so slow,  
That our pretty Love Fainting is done.   Mr. Forcer.  

HOw peaceful the Days are, how pleasant the Night; How voided of all trouble, how full of de╌light; when the Eyes of Do╌rin╌da her heart does dis╌co╌ver, with all the kind Looks, on her passionate Lover: With Kisses and Vows, Loves Earnest have paid; And I am assured, that my heart's not betrayed: I conclude, greater blessings the gods cannot give, and I pray, and I wish here for e╌ver to Live. No Joy to that Love where true hearts do u╌nite; 'tis a Morning E╌ter╌nal, that ne╌ver sees Night.   

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
TO Clo╌ris what I did pretend, is to a re╌al Passion grown; That stubborn heart, that would not bend, in one short minute's sovereign. As sorrow sat upon her Brow; And Tears from her bright Eyes did flow; Love played a Charming Syrens part; And in the Water fired my Heart.  

II.  
How pleasant was the sad surprise;  
Whilst I to quench my Flames did seek,  
Those Pearls that melted from her Eyes,  
And fond kissed them off her Cheek;  
With her white hand she put me by,  
And softly cried, Amintor, fly;  
Lest, by your stay, you do receive  
Infection, and with Cloris grieve.   

III.  
Too late, alas, you do advice,  
The sweet Contagion now hath spread;  
My Heart's your Beauties Sacrifice,  
And panting at your feet is laid.  
Ah, Cloris, make a kind return,  
'twas gentle pity made me burn:  
But if the offering you despise,  
Declare it, and Amintor dies.   Mr. James Hart.  

IN vain, poor Coridon did try, to conquer Loves tyrannick Reign; Repeating Daph╌nes cru╌el╌ty, for all things but increase his pain: In vain, alas, in vain he striven; and struggling but increased his Love. As Men, who in fevers toss and turn, make their Di╌sea╌ses fiercer burn.   

amyntas, to my grief, I see, with what neglect you look on me; How much to Love you are inclined; yet slight this heart, for you designed. So have I seen some wretched Slave, whose Fortune should have made him crave; despise the Wealth he had in store, and toil at every Mine for more.  

II.  
Caelia shall now turn Miser too;  
But 'tis to lay up Love for you:  
To lay up all her Tears and Sighs,  
And all her Looks, with dying Eyes;  
That when by some inconstant Maid,  
You find your Pains, and Heart betrayed;  
She may put on those powerful Charms,  
To bring you back to her own Arms.   Mr. Henry Purcel.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
HOw fond's the World, to love a Face like mo╌men╌ta╌ry Joys do pass, the Fairest Nymph with all her charms, can never force me to her Arms; only the Soul my heart can move, no Charms so firm as inward Love.  

II.  
Like Indians, who the Sun adore,  
The gayest thing e're seen before;  
So we by Fancy choose the Fair:  
And, by repulse, brought to despair;  
We languish till all hope's removed,  
And dying, wish, we ne're had loved.    

I Bring thee, O thou charming Fair, a Heart that's free, a Heart that's free from Ca●●. No Martyr that's driven by Tortures to heaven; But a Heart that unforced, to thy Beauty is given; No Captive in Chains, that sighs and complains, of Bleeding, and Flames, and pi╌ty╌less Pains: But I bring thee, O, thou charming Fair, a Heart that's free, a Heart that's free from Care.  

II.  
sand all thy Guards of Frowns away,  
I will not force, I will not force obey:  
But kindness and favour, will make me deliver  
My heart at thy feet, and adore thee for ever:  
Thy slave will be gone when thy Beauty goes down;  
But into the Sea I'll sink with thy sun:  
For I bring thee, O thou charming Fair,  
A heart that's free, a heart that's free from care.   Mr. James Hart.  

SHe's gone, gone, for e╌ver, the Ny●ph I a╌dore, and Fortune and Love can be cru╌el no more: Now Fate I de╌fie thee, to punish me worse; without my Belin╌da, my life's but a Curse. The thought of past pleasures increases my pain, when I sad╌ly re╌flect, they will ne're come again.  Simon Pack, Gent.  

FAir Lady, so strong are the Charms of your Eyes, that they who behold them are struck with surprise; Of which, since your Modesty will not be  told; I'll on╌ly be bold to say, that I saw those Beauties of yours, that all the World awe: Then blame me no more, if I sigh and a╌dore: Then blame me no more, if I sigh and adore. You are fairer than Fair, more wit╌ty than Wit; more gentle and mildred, and as in╌no╌cent Sweet: You tell me you Love, but you tell me not when; you give me your heart, but you take it again: Ah, Madam, cry I, I live and I die: Then blame me no more, if I sigh and a╌dore. Secure from the toils and endless Complaints, that Lovers perplex, when they kneel to their Saint; If hap╌py I live in the sight of those Eyes, that nei╌ther will grant, nor yet will de╌spise; its all I dare crave, not all I would have: Then blame me no more, if still bound to Sigh; yet still I'll a╌dore, if still, still, still bound to sigh, yet still I'll a╌dore.  Dr. John Blow.  

The SHEPHERD's SONG. A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
OF Fading Delights, let the Town take her fill, our Pleasures are constant, and here we live still, In a Cottage, as safe as a Thief in a Mill. Before there were Ci╌ties, our Folds here they stood; At first all were Shepherds, if Sto╌ry be good: And when in the Ci╌ty their Bodies are worn, debauched, as they call it, all mang'led and torn, To Patch up themselves, they to us do return; To Patch up themselves, they to us do return.  

II.  
Like Princes we live, and we rule in the Field,  
Our Subjects obedience do readily yield;  
Nor a Sword do we want, nor a glittering Shield.  
What ever we hope for, th' Enjoyment is near;  
Nor are we disturbed with the thing they call Fear:  
Give me but a Shepherds plain Mantle and Weed,  
My Bottle and bag, with a Pipe and a Reed;  
No more shall I wish, no more shall I need; No more, &c.   Mr. James Hart.  

SCarce had the rising Sun appeared, to gilled the dawning Day, when in a neighbouring Grove, I heard a murmuring Voice to say, Be kind, Sweet Nymph, since heaven affords con╌ve╌nien╌cies and place; He had as pre╌va╌lent Charms in his Words, as Chorus. She had in her Face. Beauty, to plea╌sing Flat╌te╌ries must yield; tho the first conquers, yet these win the Field: Beauty, to plea╌sing Flat╌te╌ries must yield; tho the first conquers, yet these win the Field.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

OH, the Charms of a Beauty, disdainful and fair, how she blasts all my Joys, when she bids me despair; forgetting my State, when I Sigh and lie down, and cast at her Feet both sceptre and Crown; She passes regardless, and says, A young Swain, before an old Monarch her Love should obtain.  

II.  
Forbear, my Gloriana, to laugh at my Age,  
Nor think me less apt than the Young, to engage;  
Though the politic States-man in care spends the Light,  
He puts off his troubles, and laughs all the Night:  
He wakes like a Star, ever fixed to his sphere;  
And his Mistress looks pale, when the Morning draws near.    

I Resolve against Cringing and Whining, in a Lovers intrigue so un╌fit: 'tis like say╌ing Grace, with╌out Dining; and be╌trays more af╌fe╌ction than Wit: To Kneel and Adore, to Sigh and Protest, And there to give o'er, where about lies the Jest.  

II.  
Dearest Mistress, I prithee be wiser;  
Recant your platonic Opinion:  
Whilst you hoard up your Love, like a Miser,  
You starve all within your dominion.  
And when the dread Foe is vanquished by you,  
I'll kiss the Boys Bow, and for ever be true.   Mr. Henry Pursell.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
I Find, my Eugenia, I've struggled in vain, your powerful Charms to withstand; My heart can its freedom no longer maintain, But yields to your conquering hand: When Beauty and Wit, and good Humour conspire, what breast is so could, as not to take Fire?  

II.  
Blind Cupid, o'er Mortals, triumphs in your Eyes;  
From thence doth his Empire extend:  
Who ever looks on you, is soon made a prise;  
His Liberty none can defend.  
Love shoots not amiss, secure of all hearts,  
While the Brow is his Bow, the Looks are his Darts.   Mr. William Turner.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
FOrbear, silly Heart, you insult but in vain; though so mean of our Sex you approve: Your Hearts are as empty and weak as your Brain, and your empiric as poor as your Love. By your a╌mo╌rous Follies, we wi╌ser are grown, and now to our rigour we'll stand: Since the Heart that you claimed, becomes freely our own, you'l find them but hard to command.  

II.  
What Cringes and Sighs, what Raptures and Vows,  
To delude a Poor Nymph you employ!  
You design her a Miss, for you fancy a Spouse  
Is a Pleasure too long to enjoy.  
What flamme can our faithless Opinion remove?  
Or, what can a kind one create?  
When at once you propose both Honour and Love,  
You ruin the Name and Estate.   

III.  
How charming and sweet is Love, while 'tis young!  
Yet if the Design does but fail,  
It changes her Note, from an amorous Song,  
To a Tune with a Huff and a Rail.  
If your Loves have no greater power to invite,  
We must, for your Passion, declare,  
They're not worth our Return, nor your Scorn our requited;  
And so we can rest as we are.   Mr. William Turner.  

DEsist all endeavours, my heart to 'allure; for the Boy is besot╌ted, and sleeps now secure: embraced in the Arms of his Mother so dear; And Vows your Im╌plo╌rings he ne╌ver will hear. Then lye down and rest in your former estate, or range all the Schools, to find a new Mate: For opposites sure in Love can't agree, 'tis mu╌tual consent, which makes Har╌mo╌nie.  

II.  
Fly, fly, foolish Shepherd, in vain you expend  
Each Minute in Love, for your joys now do end:  
Experience hath taught, by an amorous Swain,  
To slight an old Shepherd, and love once again.  
Then cease all designs, since your humours presage  
A person Ignoble, your Love shall engage.   Mr. John Moss.  

UNder the Branches of a spreading three, Silvander sat, from care and dan╌ger free; and his inconstant ro╌ving hu╌mour shows his dear Nymph, that Sang of Marriage Vows: But she with flow╌ing Sweetness, charm╌ing Air, cried fie, fie, my Dear, give o'er; Ah, tempt the Gods no more; but thy Offence with Pe╌ni╌tence repair: For tho 'vice in a Beauty seems sweet in thy Arms; an in╌no╌cent Virtue has always more Charms. Ah, Phil╌li╌da, the an╌gry Swain replied, is not a Mistress bet╌ter than a Bride? What man that u╌ni╌ver╌sal Yoke retains, but meets an hour, to Sigh, and curse his Chains? She smiling cried, Change, change that im╌pious mind; without it we could prove not half the Sweets of Love: 'tis Marriage makes the feeling Joys Divine; For all our life long we from scan╌dal remove, and at last fall the trophies of Honour and Love.  Mr. William Turner.  

farewell the World and Mortal care, the ravished Strephon cried; as full of Joys and silent Tears, he lay by Phillis side: Let others toil for Wealth and famed, whilst not one thought of mine at a╌ny o╌ther Bliss shall aim, than these dear Arms of thine.   

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
CLoris, when you disperse your In╌flu╌ence, your dazzling beams are quick and clear; you so surprise and wound the sense, so bright a Mi╌ra╌cle ye' ppear: Admiring Mortals you a╌sto╌nish so, no other De╌i╌ty they know; But think that all De╌vi╌nity's be╌low: But think that all Divi╌ni╌ty's be╌low.  

II.  
One charming Look from your illustrious Face,  
Were able to subdue Man-kind:  
So sweet, so powerful a Grace,  
Makes all men Lovers, but the Blind:  
Nor can they freedom, by resistance gain,  
For each inbraces the soft chain;  
And never struggle with the pleasing Pain:  
And never struggle with the pleasing Pain.   Mr. William Turner.  

GIve me leave to own a Passion, that was born and bread for you; Fools may think it out of Fashion, once to Love, and still be true: Let me where I Love pursue it though in scorn you persevere; Time, nor Fate shall ne're undo it, nor Divorce me from your Ear.  

II.  
All the Force of your denial, cannot make me raise the siege;  
Constancy shall be my trial, though my hopes you disoblige:  
All my days of Youth and Vigour, shall at Loves great service be;  
And in spite of all your Rigour, Love you to eternity.    

AH, charming Fair, Why must I die? Let me but live one hour, to try if Love will not your pi╌ty move: Though pi╌ty cannot make you Love, yet grant me that; do not de╌ny your Slave so poor a Cour╌te╌sie.  

II.  
Before you kill me, I'll impart  
To you, a Wounded, Wretched Heart;  
For my sake, lodge it in your Breast,  
From Care and Sorrow let it rest:  
And when your Hour-Glass is run,  
Then meet me at elysium.    

NO! never Planet ruled the Skies, nor e're on Lover frowned; The Rich, the Poor, the Fools, the Wise, to other Laws are bound: The formal Nun, the Men of prayer, that others so reprove; in spite of all their Pious Care, stoop to the God of Love.  

II.  
crowned Monarchs, to a lovely Face, their sceptres Sacrifice;  
Their Captive Conquests crowd to grace the Triumphs of her Eyes:  
Great Jove dissolved himself in showers, fair Danae's Fires to prove;  
And silent Time, makes slow his Hours, to wait on powerful Love.   

III.  
Yet I 'gainst Fate and Beauties harms a safe exemption sound;  
Till fair Corinna's daz'ling Charms, my tender Heart did wound.  
Thus, what the potent Thunderer could ne're to softness move;  
Was by a Lightning, shot from her, straight melted into Love.    

AS some brave Man, unmoved doth stand, when any threatening Action calls, and frightens death with his bold hand, till over-powr'd with Foes he falls: such was his Fate, whose daring heart, encountering your surprising look; Love wounded with his fa╌tal dart, and all his Senses Prisoners took.  

II.  
So does some treacherous disease, our Blood, and all our parts invade;  
And then on life itself doth seize, with fires, kept in Ambuscade:  
Yet, since from your almighty Eyes, his yielding Breast received its wound;  
He hopes, where so much pity lies, there is some mercy to be found.   

But if unpity'd, he should fall by you,  
Those Sighs shall haunt your Ears, when last he cried,  
Aminda, Aminda, your Lover was true;  
Aminda, Aminda, 'twas for you he died.    

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
SItting by yonder River side, thus to Par╌the╌nia, Clo╌e cried; whilst from the fair Nymphs Eyes a╌pace, a╌no╌ther stream o're-flow'd her beauteous Face: Ah! happy Nymph, said she, that can so lit╌tle va╌lue that false creature Man.  

Oft the perfidious things, would cry,  
They Love, they Bleed, they Burn, they die:  
Yet, if they're absent half a Day,  
Nay, let them be but one poor Hour away:  
No more they die, no more Complain,  
But like unconstant Wretches, Live again.   Mr. Thomas Farmer.  

NEar the Courts of great Princes, we scorn to a╌bide; since se╌cure╌ly we live, free from Causes of Pride; in a Sun-shiny Day, with our Lambs we can play, and triumphantly sing, by a Sha╌dy Wood-side: The Am╌bi╌tion we seek, is on Hills, and high Rocks, where we sit and we govern our mil╌ky white Flocks  

II.  
What some may call Beauty, we do often display,  
To be kissed by the Sun, in a Scorching Hot Day:  
We do think it a Sin, a new Conquest to win,  
By endeavouring to cherish what soon flies away.  
The Ambition we seek, is on Hills, and high Rocks,  
Where we sit and we govern our milky white Flocks.   

III.  
Of Intrigues and Amours, we have often heard speak;  
But, to know their true meaning, we yet are to seek:  
In pure Innocence, we with our Sheep do live free  
From all noise; like a Bark that lies safe in a Creek.  
The Ambition we seek, is on Hills and high Rocks,  
Where we sit and we govern our milky white Flocks.   Mr. William Turner.  

NOw that the could Winter's expelled by the Sun, and the Fields that did Penance in Snow, Have put Madam Natures gay Li╌ve╌ries on, embroidered with flowers, to make a fine Show: Since the Hills and the valleys with pleasures abound, Let Mortals bear a Part, and the frolic go round.  

II.  
Hark, hark, how the Birds in sweet Consort conspire,  
The Lark and the Nightingale join;  
And in every Grove, there's an amorous Quoire,  
While nothing but Mirth is their harmless desire:  
Since the Hills and the valleys with pleasures abound,  
Let Mortals bear a Part, and the frolic go round.   

III.  
Me thinks the God Pan, whose Subjects we are,  
Sits and smiles on a flowery Throne;  
He accepts our kind offerings every Year,  
Our May-pole's his sceptre, our Garland's his Crown.  
Since the Hills and the valleys with pleasures abound,  
Let Mortals bear a Part, and the frolic go round.   Mr. William Turner.  

LOng was the Day, e're Alexis, my Lover, to finish my hopes, would his Passion reveal: He could not speak, nor I could not dis╌co╌ver, what my poor aching Heart was so loathe to conceal; till the Strength of his Passion, his fear had removed; then we mu╌tual╌ly talked, and we mu╌tual╌ly loved.  

II.  
Groves for Umbrella's, did kindly o're-shade us  
From Phoebus hot rages, who like Envy, had striven,  
Had not kind Fate, this provision made us,  
All the Nymphs of the Air would have envied our Love:  
But we stand below Envy, that ill-natured Fate;  
And above cruel Scorn, is our happy estate.   Mr. William Turner.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
SMiling Phillis has an Air so engaging, all Men love her; But her hidden Beauties, are Wonders, I dare not dis╌co╌ver; So bewitching, that in vain I endeavour to forget her; Still she brings me back again, and I day╌ly love her bet╌ter.  

II.  
Kindness springs within her Eyes, and from thence is always flowing;  
every Minute does surprise with fresh Beauties still a Blowing.  
Were she but as true as fair, never Man had such a Treasure;  
But I die with jealous Care, in the midst of all my Pleasure.   

III.  
Free and easy, without Pride, is her Language, and her Fashion;  
Setting gentle Love aside, she's unmoved with any Passion.  
When she says, I have her heart, though I ought not to believe her,  
She so kindly plays her part, I could be deceived forever.   Mr. Thomas Farmer.  

IS it Noble, cruel Fair, to make me love, and then despair? By the embassy of your Eyes, you made me hope those kind supplies that maintain a Lovers flamme, till my Soul all fire became: Thus, by this sweet flattering art, you took possession of my heart.  

II.  
But, Aminda, can despise  
The flamme in which her Captive dyes;  
And with disdainful looks, deny  
Those Joys she promised by her Eye:  
Of her rigour, and my pain,  
She forbids me to complain;  
How severe's my wretched fate,  
That I must love, though she's ingrate.    

IF Languishing Eyes without Language can move, I have long  told my Phillis, I die for her Love: Ah! pity that Passion which words cannot speak: Could I tell what I suffer, my Heart would not break. I pled no desert to the Beauty I serve; For 'tis nobler to give, what there's none can deserve: In the crowd of my Rivals, who sigh and adore; None me╌rits you less, or can va╌lue you more.  

II.  
To purchase a Smile, or a Glance from your Eyes,  
My freedom and life were too little a prise:  
But if, to desert you can only be kind,  
Like heaven, to yourself, you must then be confined;  
All joys are decreed us, and 'tis natures doom,  
That what e're we possess, from another should come.  
Then, Phillis, what pleasure with me may you prove;  
Nor can I want merit, who have so much Love.   

III.  
Our Life is uneasy, and sullen our State,  
every Minute is angry, and full of debate:  
But kind was the power, who our quiet to keep,  
Sent Love to relieve us, and lay us a Sleep.  
In Oceans of Care, though against Tide we Sail,  
Yet our Love from behind us supplies a fresh Gale:  
The Passage is pleasant, but, ah, 'tis too short;  
Let us live while we may, we must part at the Port.   Mr. William Turner.  

HOw happy, how happy is the Amorous Pair! when mutual Love blesses the Heart of the Fair; When Eyes upon Eyes for whole Hours are fixed, and Sighs, Tears and Smiles are Joyfully mixed: When Vows follow Vows, with Oath up╌on Oath, both eager, yet modest, and willing, tho loathe: Loves Feast is prepared, their Ap╌pe╌tite's great; they taste and fain would, but yet dare not Eat, because they are waiting for Grace before Meat. Then wish they for Joys, which must only be guest, and by me shall be never, oh, never expressed; Then Cupid true peace and concord imparts; There's no such Sympathy, Sympathy, Sympathy, there's no such Sympathy, as that of Hearts.  Mr. John Moss.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
THou art so Fair, but Cruel too; I am amazed! What shall I do to compass my Desire? Some times thine Eyes do me invite; But, when I venture, kill me quiter, yet still increase my Fires.  

II.  
Oft have I tried my Love to quell,  
And thought its fury to repel,  
Since I no hopes do find:  
But, when I think of leaving thee,  
My Heart as much doth torture me,  
As 'twould rejoice, if kind.   

III.  
I still must Love, though hardly used,  
And never offered, but refused;  
Could any suffer more!  
Be Coy, be Cruel, do thy worst,  
If, for thy sake, I were accursed,  
I must, and will adore.   Mr. James Cobb.  

WHen first, fair Saint, I thought you kind, joy o╌ver╌flow'd my ravished mind: But since your kindness you decline, and I can ne╌ver part with mine; I am with juster grief oppressed, than if I ne╌ver had been blessed.  

Oh, fair Utresia, if you knew  
The Torments I endure for you,  
My passionate Hopes, despairing Frights,  
uneasy Days, and waking Nights;  
Your Rigour, or your Love will free  
My Heart from you, or you from me.   Mr. James Cobb,  

ADieu, my Cor╌de╌lia, my Dearest a╌dieu; no Passion, though slighted, was ever more true: No Torment se╌ve╌rer than this, you could prove, enjoining his absence, that's charmed by your Love.  

II.  
subdued by your Charms, you inflame my desire,  
till a Spark from your Eyes, my whole heart set on fire:  
Oh cruelty shown,  
No offence, but Love, known;  
exiled and outlawed, by a hard Heart of ston.   Mr. James Cobb.  

AS sad Phi╌lo╌the╌a lay melting in Grief, and kindly complained of the Amorous Thief; She aloud to the Woods did her passion impart, but faintly lamented the loss of her heart: Ah, cruel unkind, Do╌ri╌la╌us, she cried, bring back the forced Stray, that has wandered aside.  

II.  
The Youth, as from Courting Astrea, he came,  
Had the Pleasure of hearing her sigh out his Name;  
And softly he stolen, till so nigh her he drew,  
That his Arms, on a sudden, about her he threw:  
Then take back thy heart, Philothea, he cried,  
Since your own you have suffered to wander aside    

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
TIs not my Ladies Face that makes me Love her; though beauty there doth rest, enough to inflame the Breast, of one that ne╌ver did dis╌co╌ver, the Glories of a Face before. But I that have seen ma╌ny more, see nought in her, but what in others are; on╌ly because I think she's Fair, she's Fair.  

II.  
'tis not her virtues, nor those vast Perfections,  
Which crowd together in her,  
engage my heart to win her;  
For those are only brief Collections,  
Of what in Man's in Folio writ;  
Which by their imitating Wit,  
Women, like Apes, and Children strive to do;  
But we, that have the Substance, slight the Show.   Dr. John Blow.  

HOld Tyrant, hold, spare now thy dart, and cease to wound, unless her heart thou strike, for whom I sigh and burn; 'tis worse than death to bear her scorn: Then Charmer shoot, let's both par╌ti╌ci╌pate in mutual Love, or end my wretched state.  

II.  
When first my heart received its wound,  
I prostrate fell, and on the Ground,  
With humble svit I did implore;  
But still her heart was hardened more.  
Then Charmer Shoot, let's both participate  
In mutual Love, or end my wretched state.   

III.  
I'll string my Lute, and then I'll try  
To drown her scorn in Harmony;  
If, in that Flood, I cannot find  
Her to Amphetis, to grow kind;  
I'll banish Love, and scorn the Lovers Fate,  
With all those Fair ones, that are so ingrate.   Mr. John Moss.  

TO Love, how all the Worlds inclined, by Love how lead a stray; that tho the God himself be blind, we dare not dis╌o╌bey. Laws for our Hearts to be betrayed, the God of Passion gave, that such a Sot of Fan╌cy made, and Reason, such a Slave.  

II.  
Where resolution is forgot to struggle with the flamme,  
It does the Judgement quiter besot, and make the Reason tame:  
For when our blind desires have sped, and to ill Fate were given,  
This will at last be poorly said, it was decreed in heaven.   

III.  
Thrice happy he, who Conquering Love has seized his very Soul,  
And in that Agony can prove, his power to control:  
That Mortal, did I once but know, I'd more than Love admire;  
That could as easily forego, as entertain the Fire.   Mr. William Turner.  

A SCOTCH SONG, in the Fond Husband. A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
IN Ja╌nu╌a╌ry last, on Munnonday at morn, as I a╌long the Fields did pass to view the Winters Corn; I leaked me be╌hind, and I saw come o'er the Knough, yan glenting in an Apron with bon╌ny brent Brow.  

II.  
I bid good morrow, fair Maid, and she right courteouslie,  
Bekt lew and sine, kind Sir, she said, good day again to ye:  
I speard o her, fair Maid, quo I, how far intend you now?  
Quo she, I mean a Mile or twa, to yonder bonny borough.   

III.  
Fair Maid, i'm weel contented to ha sik company,  
For I am ganging out the Gate that ya intend ta be:  
When we had walked a Mile or twa, Iz said to her, my Dow,  
May I not dight your Apron sine, kiss your bonny Brow.   

IV.  
Nea, good sir, you are far misteen, for I am nean o those;  
I hope ya ha more brieding than to dight a womans cloths:  
For I've a better chosen than any sick as you,  
Who boldly may my Apron dight, and kiss ma bonny brow.   

V.  
Na, if ya are contracted, I have ne mar to say,  
Rather than be rejected, I will give o'er the play:  
And I will choose yen o me own that shall not on me rue,  
Will boldly let me dight her Apron, kiss her bonny brow.   

VI.  
Sir, Iz see ya are proud-hearted, and loath to be said nay,  
You need not tall ha started, for eight that Iz did say:  
You know Wemun for modesty, ne at the first time boo;  
But, give we like your company, we are as kind a you.    

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
FOrgive me, kind and gentle Maid, accuse Co╌rin╌na's melting Arts: She Robs a Thousand of their Lover's hearts; And mine was half betrayed.  

II.  
Corinna can old Faith remove,  
The Faith of Saints, she is so Fair:  
Make aged Hermits think no more of prayer;  
And Dying, dream of Love.   

III.  
But if new Beauties I pursue,  
May I be bold, and your fair Sex  
With Letters, Songs and tedious Love perplex,  
And find all Chast, like you.   Mr. Francis Forcer,  

HOw severe is Fate, to break a Heart, that ne╌ver went a Roving; To Torture it with endless smart, for only constant Loving: I Bleed, I bleed, I melt away, I wash my wa╌t'ry Pillow; I walk the Woods alone all day, I wrap me round in Willow.  

II.  
Some Pity then, fair Saint, I crave, to raise my drooping spirit,  
That Languishes even to its Grave, and fain your Love would merit:  
It Pants, it Sighs, it Pines away, and never can recover;  
till Cloris pleasantly does say, Arise my Constant Lover.   Mr. Staggins.  

AS Ce╌la╌don and Clo╌ris all a╌long un╌to one Fold did in╌no╌cently keep, without de╌sig╌ning a╌ny bo╌dy wrong, and only to secure each others Sheep; Some envious Shepherds, of a Jealous sense, would, to disperse the Fold, remove him thence.  

II.  
You may delight to break all Fences down,  
And lay all common, that is in your way;  
To live on rapine, rather than your own,  
The constant practise of who goes astray:  
Thus, with all past'ral laws though you dispense,  
Still their enclosure is their Innocence.   

III.  
If Friendship be a Fault, then the whole Frame  
Of all society a Pieces fall;  
And we must all turn savage, as we came  
even from our very first Original;  
And so the Wolf and you will think't no sin  
To prey together, when so near of kin.   

IV.  
All malice and your jealousies apart,  
Why may they not the rather join their Stocks;  
And much more strictly too unite at heart,  
The more some labour to divide their Flocks:  
And so both glory more in that defeat,  
Than if you all conspired to make them great.   Dr. John Blow.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
DI╌a╌na's a nymph, so Chast and so Fair, that Venusher self 'snot with her to compare; yet Ve╌nus she always has had the great praise, but the Scene it is altered and changed now a Days. And ever hereafter, all Honour and famed shall be rendered, be rendered to Di╌a╌na's Great Name.  

II.  
For Diana in Nature is modest and free,  
There's none so delightful, so happy as shee;  
In goodness, excelling the rest of her Sex,  
And they knowing that, their minds do perplex:  
Yet ever hereafter all Honour and famed  
Shall be rendered, be rendered to great Diana's Name   Mr. William Turner.  

LOst in the Labrinth of my thoughts, and my Clarinda's Charms, I was in Contemplation brought, at length to stand with folded Arms, In the delightful shade where at first sight, where at first sight I was her Captive made.  

II.  
As she sat leaning on her Arms,  
Her Eyes were downward thrown;  
As if she rather meant to warm,  
Than burn the Heart she'd made her own:  
Thus glorious Victors choose  
To save their Slaves, to save their Slaves;  
Lest they their Triumphs loose.   

III.  
With gentle Smiles she fed my Heart,  
And seemed to bid me live;  
And to increase my pleasing smart,  
Some times a Sigh or two would give;  
Yet so, as if she meant,  
Rather to check, rather to check,  
Than give encouragement.   

IV.  
Thus am I in confusion tost,  
'Twixt hoping and despair;  
Now in a Fear that all is lost,  
But hope her Heart may yet repair  
The harm that's done b' her Eyes:  
Or let them quiter, or let them quiter  
Consume their Sacrifice.   Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
I Have languished too long for one, who I find hath a kindness for me, as the rest of Mankind: This sort of false Love, I cannot endure, that mine should be fixed, and hers so unsure. Therefore I've nothing to ease my sad heart, but the Pleasure to think how others may smart; Therefore I've nothing to ease my sad heart, but the Pleasure to think how others may smart.  Mr. William Turner.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHy does the foolish World mistake, and Loves dull Praises sing so loud? What idle Subjects must they make, who choose a Blind and Childish Boy their God? What dearer Joys our freedom brings, whilst the winged choir on every Bough, charmed with our Bliss in Consort Sings, and Night and Day our harmless Pleasures view. 'tis shane and the Night Loves Follies does co╌ver, and on╌ly the bat and Screech Owl, that hover about the dark Windows of a drowsy dull Lover.  Mr. William Turner.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
LEt's Love and lets Laugh, let's Dance and let's Sing; while shrill echoes ring; Our Wishes agree, and from Care we are free; Then who is so happy, so happy as we?  

II.  
We'll press the soft Grass,  
Each Swain with his Lass,  
And follow the Chase;  
When weary we be,  
We sleep under a three;  
Then who is so happy, &c.   

III.  
By flattery or Fraud  
No Shepherds betrayed,  
Or Cheats the fond Maid;  
No false subtle Knee  
To decieve us we see;  
Then who is so happy, &c.   

IV.  
We envy no power,  
They cannot be poor  
That wish for no more;  
Some richer may be,  
And of higher degree;  
But none are so happy, &c.   Mr. John Banister.  

CUpid once, when wea╌ry grown with Womens Errants, laid him down on a refreshing rosy Bed; The same sweet covert harboured a Bee; And as she always had a Quarrel to Loves i╌dle Trade, stings the soft Boy; Pains and strong fears strait melts him into Crys and Tears: As Wings and Feet would let each other, home he hastens to his Mother; There on her Knees he hangs his Head, and crys, Oh, Mother! I am dead: An ug╌ly Creature, called a Bee; Oh, see, I swell! has murdered me. Venus with smiles replied, Oh, Sir! Does a bees Sting make all this stir? Think what pains attend those Darts wherewith thou still art wounded heart: e'en let it smart, perchance that then, thou't learn more pi╌ty towards men.  Mr. Pelham Humphrey.  

CUre, Nymph, O cure your bleeding Victim Crys! This cruel shaft flew from your piercing Eyes, which have the Nature of A╌chil╌les Darts; They Cure as well as Kill a wounded Heart; they Cure as well as Kill a woun╌ded Heart. But if you grea╌ter Glory have to Kill, than Cure the Wounds you made, Frown on me still; I choose the Martyr of your Love to die, than live the Object of your Cru╌el╌ty; Hard is his Fate, who can no pi╌ty find; But harder still the Heart that's so unkind: Yet e're I die, I'll writ up╌on my Tomb, My Judge was Fair, tho Cruel was my Doom.  Mr. James Hart.  

SOme others may with safety tell, the moderate Flames which in them dwell; and either find a medicine there, or cure themselves even by despair: My Love's so great, that it may prove dangerous to tell her that I Love. So tender is my Wound, it cannot bear a╌ny Salute, tho of the kindest Air. I would not have her know the Pain, the Torments for her I sustain; lest too much goodness make her throw her Love upon a Fate below: Forbid it heaven! my Life should be weighed with the least Conven'en╌cie. No, let me Perish rather with my Grief, than to her dis╌ad╌vantage find relief: But when I die, my last Breath shall grow bold, and plainly tell her all; like co╌ve╌tous Men, who ne're descry their dear hide Treasure, till they die: Ah, Ah, Fairest nymph, how would it cheer my Ghost, to get from you a Tear: But take heed, for if me thou pi╌ty'st, then, twenty to one, but I shall live again.  Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
HArk, how the Songsters of the Grove, sing Anthems to the God of Love: Hark how each amorous winged Pair, with Loves great Praises fill the air. On every side their Charming sound, doth from the Hollow Woods rebound. Love in their little Veins inspires their cheerful Notes, their soft Desires; whilst Heat makes Buds, or Blossoms spring, these pret╌ty Couples Love and Sing: But Winter puts out their desire, and half the Year they want Loves Fire: But ah, how much are our Delights more dear; For only Human-kind Love all the Year.  Mr. Grabue.  

A SONG Sung at a music Feast. Verse alone.  
HOw well doth this Har╌mo╌n'ous Meeting prove, a Feast of music is a Feast of Love; where Kindness is our Tune, and we in Parts do but Sing forth the Consorts of our Hearts. For Friendship is nothing but Concord of Votes; and music is made by a Friendship of Notes.   

CHORUS for Three Voices.  Cantus. 
COme then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh: Come then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh.  Medius. 
COme then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh: Come then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh.  Bassus. 
COme then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh Come then, to the God of our Art let us Quaff, for he once a Year is re╌pu╌ted to Laugh.  Mr. Pelham Hamphrys,  

AMINTOR and CORIDON. For a Bass alone.  Amintor. 
IN yonder Grove A╌min╌tor lies, with folded Arms, and heaved up Eyes, 'cause Phillis is unkind, and Sighing, crys; Oh, cruel Love, Why dost thou not by death remove the Torments of my Mind?  Choridon. 
Whilst Co╌ri╌don me╌ri╌ly, me╌ri╌ly sits, and call for Canary to ripen his Wits; still swearing a Woman was ne're worth his while; and a Pox take that Fool, and a Pox take that Fool, who doth dote on a Smile.  Amintor. 
A╌min╌tor by the River side, sat Weeping, to increase the tide, with Ri╌vo╌lets of Tears, telling the harmless Fish that he did envy their Fe╌li╌ci╌ty, 'cause freed from Loving Fears.  Coridon. 
But Coridon Laughing, declares, for his part, all Sorrows he'll drown in the Juice of the Quart; and follow the Maxims of old A╌ri╌sto╌tle, in Courting the Pint, in Courting the Pint, and Adoring the Bottle.  Amintor. 
Fair Phillis having changed her Mind, her Dear Amintor is confined, and circle'd in her Arms; Where having cropped the Sweets of Love, alas, his Joys his burden prove, and lost are all those Charms.  Choridon. 
Then who would submit to the Chains of a Woman, and cancel his freedom for what is so common; whilst joys of Canary admit of no sorrow, for cloyed over Night, for cloyed over Night, we renew them to morrow.  Mr. Benjamin Wallington.  

A Pastoral SONG, by two Nymphs and a Shepherd.  First Nymph. 
MAke hast my Shepherd, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay; and oh, how very short's a Lovers day? Hast, hast, A╌min╌tas to the Grove; beneath whose shades so oft I've sat, and heard my dear loved Swain repeat how much the Gal╌la╌te╌a loved? whilst all the listening Birds a╌round Sang to the music of the Blessed Sound.  CHORUS for Three Voices. 
MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day?  Second Nymph. 
How dull each Field and Grove appears, when thou with╌draw'st thy Eyes; ours lose themselves in si╌lent Tears, and all the Springs decays and dyes; So if the God of Day declines, each lit╌tle flower hangs down his gaudy head, losing that Beauty which it did retain, no longer will its fragrant Leaves be spread, but pines itself into a Bud again: The cooling streams do backward glide, since on their banks they saw not thee, losing the Order of their tide, and in soft murmurs, chide thy Cru╌el╌tie.  CHORUS for Three Voices. 
MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? MAke hast amyntas, come away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day?  Turn over. Shepherd. 
I hear thy Charming Voice, my Fair, and see bright Nymph, thy Swain is here; who his Divot'ons had much early'r paid, but that a Lamb of thine was strayed; and I the little wanderer have brought, that with one angry look from thy fair Eyes, thou mayst the pretty fugitive Chastise; too great a Punishment for any Fault. Come Gal╌la╌te╌a hast away, the Sun is up and will not stay; And oh, how very shorts a Lovers Day?  CHORUS for Three Voices. 
COme Gal╌la╌te╌a, hast away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? COme Gal╌la╌te╌a, hast away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day? COme Gal╌la╌te╌a, hast away, the Sun is up and will not stay, and oh, how very short's a Lovers Day?  Mr. Francis Forcer.  

An ITALIAN air.  CHORUS for Three Voices. 
MOr╌ta╌li che fate, che fate Mor╌ta╌li che fate, Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pensa╌te MOr╌ta╌li che fate, che fate Mor╌ta╌li che fate, Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pensa╌te MOr╌ta╌li che fa╌te, Mor╌ta╌li che fate, che fate Mor╌ta╌li che fate, Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pensa╌te al╌le╌gio╌ri non pen╌sa╌te Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pen╌sa╌te al╌le╌go╌ri, al╌le╌gio╌ri non pen╌sa╌te Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pen╌sa╌te al╌le╌go╌ri, al╌le╌gio╌ri non pen╌sa╌te Tra╌cu╌ra╌ti non pen╌sa╌te al╌le╌go╌ri, non pen╌sa╌te, non pen╌sa╌te, Mor╌ta╌li che fate, che fate, Merta╌li non pen╌sa╌te, non pen╌sa╌te, Mor╌ta╌li che fate, che fate, Morta╌li non pen╌sa╌te, non pen╌sa╌te, Mor╌ta╌li che fa╌te, Mor╌ta╌li che fate, che fate, Morta╌li che fa╌te che che che Mor╌ta╌li che fa╌te. che fa╌te che che che Mor╌ta╌li che fa╌te. che fa╌te che che che Mor╌ta╌li che fa╌te. Turn over.   

Verse for a Bass alone.  
EC╌co vi chi'a ma tut╌tia go╌de╌re, a mor che bram a der╌gio╌ci vi╌c vie dumque ve╌ni╌te legiar a man╌te ej'n un╌ri╌ve╌re╌re ej'n un╌ri╌vere╌re men╌ti╌re Sem╌bi╌an╌te ej'n un╌ri╌ve╌re╌re ej'n un╌ri╌ve╌re╌re menti╌re Second Verse. Sem╌bi╌an╌te men╌ti╌re Sem╌bi╌an╌te. CHORUS again, for three Voices. QUi╌re si au╌de nons╌deg non╌e╌que╌ra maun pa╌ri╌dis╌so so╌la tut╌ta in ter╌ra maun pa╌ri╌dis╌so so╌la tut╌ta in ter╌ra in tut╌ta in ter╌ra in ter╌ra. CHORUS again, and conclude.   

LU╌cin╌da, since we have confessed to each, each others Love, why should our Flames be still suppressed, and not to action move? Both kindled at the first kind interview, and both with equal Care and Vigour grew; Mine scorched, and scorched, nor durst your Passion say, you loved, till forced, they did themselves betray.  

II.  
Now let us study to improve our Passions with that Fire,  
That may not quickly wast our Love, but still preserve desire;  
And silently enjoy at such a Rate,  
That distance may our Fancies recreate:  
Dealing our Love with that equality,  
As Born together, so their Deaths may be.   

III.  
Lucinda shall but whispered be, used as the Name of Saints,  
And called on as a deity, to satisfy Complaints;  
Nor other wishes dare attempt my breast,  
Since 'tis with kind Lucinda so possessed:  
She fills my thoughts with Glory, then I'll cry,  
Lucinda, Loves; Lucinda, so do I.   Mr. William Gregory.  

On the Death of his Worthy Friend Mr. MATTHEW lock, MUSICK-Composer in Ordinary to His Majesty, And Organist of Her Majesties chapel, who Dyed in August, 1677.  
WHat hope for us remains now he is gone? he that knew all the power of Numbers flow'n; alas! too soon; even he, whose skill╌ful Har╌mo╌ny had Charms for all the Ills that we endure, and could apply a certain Cure; From pointed Griefs he'd take the Pain away, even Ill Nature did his Lyre obey, and in kind thoughts, his Art╌ful hand repay: His lays to Anger, and to War could move, then calm the Tempest they had raised with Love; And with soft Sounds to gen╌tle thoughts incline, no Passion reigned, where he did not combine: He knew such mystic Touches, that in Death, could cure the Fear, or stop the parting Breath; And if to die, had been his Fear, or Life his Care, he with his Lyre could call, and could unite his Spirits to the Fight, and CHORUS. vanquish Death in his own Field of Night. pleased with some pow'r╌ful Hal╌le╌lu╌jah, CHORUS. pleased with some pow'r╌ful Hal╌le╌lu╌jah, he, wrapped in the Joys of his own Har╌mo╌nie, Sung on, Sung on, and flew up to the De╌i╌tie; he, wrapped in the Joys of his own Har╌mo╌nie, Sung on, Sung on, and flew up to the De╌i╌tie; Sung on, Sung on, and flew up to the De╌i╌tie. Sung on, Sung on, and flew up to the De╌i╌tie.  Mr. Henry Purcell. 
FINIS.   

Books Printed and Sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple-Church.  
CAnticum Sacra, First set, Latin Hymns for Two and Three Voices: Composed by Mr. Richard Deering, with a Through-Bass for the Organ, in 4 volumes, Folio, price 3 s. 6 d.  
Canticum Sacra, Second set, Latin Hymns, and English Anthems, for Two Voices to the Organ: Composed by Dr. Gibbons, Dr. Rogers, Mr. Matthew lock, and others, with a Through-Bass for the Organ, in Three volumes, Folio, price 5 s.  
T●e Psalms of David, as they are Sung in Parish Churches; the Tunes Composed in Four Parts, the Common-Tunes having the Through Bass under each Tune, as proper to Sing to the Organ, Lute, or Viol: To which is added several Hymns for One Voice to the Organ, Printed in one volume in Folio, price stitched 3 s.  
The Whole Book of Psalms as they are Sung in Parish Churches, with the usual Tune Set to every Psalm, and likewise the Hymns before and after, all Composed to music of Three Parts, viz. triple, Mean, and Bass, by John Playford, and Printed in a Pocket volume in Octavo; price bound 3 s.  
The Treasury of music, containing airs and Dialogues; and short airs for Three Voice; Composed by Mr. Henry, and Mr. William Laws, Dr. Coleman, Dr. Wilson, and others, proper to Sing to the Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol; Printed in Three several volumes in Folio, and are all Bound together, price 10 s.  
The Musical Companion, Printed in Two volumes; First, Containing Pleasant and Merry Catches and Rounds for Three Voices; The Second, Containing airs, Songs, Glees, and Dialogues, some for Two, some for Three, and some for Four Voices; Bound in one large volume in Quarto, price 3 s. 6 d.  
An Introduction to the Skill of music, both Vocal and Instrumental, by John Playford; newly Re-printed and enlarged, price bound 2 s.  
The Dancing Master, Containing variety of Country Dances, with plain Rules and Directions for the performing them, with all the several Tunes to each Dance, proper for the Treble-Violin Printed in Sexto; price bound 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Recreation, Containing New and choice Lessons for the Lyra Viol, on various Tunings, with plain and easy Instructions for Beginners, in large Quarto, price stitched 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Hand-Maid, presenting new and pleasant Lessons for the Virginals or Harpsicord, in Copper Plates, Newly Re-printed with many more new Lessons, and also plain and easy Instructions for Beginners, in Quarto, price 2 s. 6 d.  
'Apollo's-Banquet for the Treble-Violin, Containing new airs, and Theatre-Tunes, Corants, and embracings, with a plain and easy Introduction for Beginners on the Violin; To which is added the Tunes of French-Dances, used at Court, and in Schools. price 1 s. 6 d.  
The Pleasant Companion, a Book for the Flagelet, Containing New airs and Tunes, and also plain and easy Directions for Beginners, newly Re-printed with more new Tunes; price Bound 1 s. 6 d.  
Also there is sold all sorts of ruled Paper for music, and Books ready Bound up.   

Other BOOKS.  
THe Psalms of David, from the New Translation of the Bible, turned into Metre, according to the Common Psalms used in Parish-Churches, and to be Sung to those Tunes, By the Reverend Father in God Henry King, D. D. and late Lord Bishop of Chichester, newly Reprinted in Octavo, price bound 2 s.  
An Antidote against Melancholy, First Part, Compounded of Witty Ballads, Jovial Songs, and Merry Catches, in Octavo, price bound 2 s.  
The Cabinet of Mirth, or the Second Part of the Antidote against Melancholy, compounded of Merry Tales, Witty Jests, and Ridiculous Bulls, in Octavo, price Bound 1 s.   

An ADVERTISEMENT.  
IN Islington, over against the Church, is kept a Boarding-School by Mrs. Playford, where young Gentlewomen( for the Improvement of their Education) may be Instructed in all manner of Curious Works, as also Reading, Writing, music, Dancing, and the French Tongue.   

CHOICE airs and SONGS TO SING TO THE Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol: BEING Most of the Newest airs and Songs sung at COURT, And at the public theaters.  
Composed by several Gentlemen of His Majesty's music, and others.  
THE THIRD BOOK.  
 
LONDON, Printed by A. Godbid and J. Playford Junior, and are Sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple Church; and John Carr, at his Shop at the Middle Temple-Gate, 1681.   

TO ALL LOVERS OF music.  
GENTLEMEN,  
THIS Third Book, or Collection of New airs and Songs had come to your hands some Months sooner, had I not been prevented by long Sickness; however I hope it will not now be unwelcome. I need not here commend the Excellency of their Composition, the ingenious Authors Names being printed with them, who are Men that understand to make English Words speak their true and genuine sense both in good humour and air; which can never be performed by either Italian or French, they not so well understanding the Proprieties of our Speech. I have seen lately published a large volume of English Songs, composed by an Italian Master, who has lived here in England many Years; I confess he is a very able Master, but being not perfect in the true Idiom of our Language, you will find the Air of his music so much after his Country-Mode, that it would suit far better with Italian than English Words. But I shall forbear to censure his Work, leaving it to the Verdict of better Musical Judgments; only I think him very disingenious and much to blame, to endeavour to raise a Reputation to himself and Book, by disparaging and undervaluing most of the best English Masters and Professors of music. I am sorry it is( in this Age) so much the Vanity of some of our English Gentry to admire that in a Foreigner, which they either slight, or take little notice of in one of their own Nation; for I am sure that our English Masters in music( either for Vocal or Instrumental music) are not in Skill and judgement inferior to any Foreigners whatsoever, the same Rules in this Science being generally used all over Europe: But I have too far digress'd, and therefore beg your Pardon This Book being bound up with the two others formerly published, will make a complete volume. To conclude, I desire you to think, that I have herein as much studied your satisfaction as my own Interest, and kindly to receive this Collection, from  
GENTLEMEN, Your hearty Servant, JOHN PLAYFORD. From my House in Arundel-Street, near the Thames side, Novemb. 2. 1680.   

An Alphabetical Table of the airs and Songs in this Book.  

A  

AWake, awake, my Lyre Pag. 46  
Adieu to the Curse of a Country Life Pag. 10  
Amintor heedless of his Flocks Pag. 11  
Ah! lay by your Lute Pag. 16  
A Pox of the fooling and plotting of late Pag. 28  
Ah cruel bloody Fate Pag. 29  
As freezing Fountains Pag. 30  
After all your cruelty I love you still Pag. 34  
All hail to the glorious Spring Pag. 45  
As on his Death-bed gasping Strephon lay, &c. A Pastoral Elegy on the late Earl of Rochester Pag. 51    

B  

Bid the sad forsaken Grove Pag. 2  
Beneath the stately Cedar's shade Pag. 5  
blushy not redder than the Morning Pag. 10  
Bonny Lass, gin thou wert mine Pag. 17    

C  

Cease, if thou canst pursue no more Pag. 2  
Can Life be a Blessing Pag. 3  
Clorinda adieu, since you slight Pag. 8  
Come all the Youths whose Hearts have bled Pag. 24  
Cheer up my Friends, the Winter's ending Pag. 34  
Change, O change your fatal Bows Pag. 38    

D  

Did you not hear the hideous Groan, &c. A Pastoral Elegy on Mr. Pelham Humphrys Pag. 49    

F  

fie Cloris, fie, this cruelty Pag. 4    

G  

Give me thy Youth the time of Love Pag. 25    

H  

How I sigh when I think of the Charms Pag. 13  
Hail to the myrtle shade Pag. 22  
How short is the pleasure that follows Ibid.  
How happy's the Prisoner Pag. 27    

I  

I take no pleasure in the Sun's Pag. 14  
I yet am free, why should I be subject Pag. 16  
I love my dear Phillis, and will never Pag. 18  
Insult not too much on the fading success Pag. 24  
I'll drink off my Bottle each night Pag. 26    

L  

Let the daring Adventurers Pag. 6  
Let the Traytors Plot on Pag. 7  
Love you by all that's good Pag. 29    

N  

Nothing I know, yet I feel Pag. 8  
Now, now the Fight's done Pag. 41    

O  

One Night while all the Village slept Pag. 1  
Of all the dear Joys the World has in store Pag. 19  
Oh how I am greiv'd that I now must part Pag. 20    

P  

Pastora's Beauties when unblown Pag. 12  
Poor Cleonice thy Garlands tear Pag. 15  
Poor Mariana long in vain Pag. 48    

S  

Sawny was Tall, and of Noble Race Pag. 9  
Since one poor View has drawn my Heart Pag. 13  
See how the flowers adorn the Spring Pag. 21  
Since cruel Thirtis you my Torments slight Pag. 33  
Sylvia tell me how long it will be Pag. 36  
Since you have Wars removed Pag. 37  
Sure Nature never yet designed Ibid.    

T  

Tender Maids let me advice ye Pag. 23  
Thus Mortals must submit to Fate Pag. 40    

V  

Victorious Men on Earth no more complain Pag. 39  
Underneath some shady bowers( A Dialogue) Pag. 42    

w  

When her languishing Eyes said Love Pag. 14  
Whilst others on Downy Nests Pag. 30  
Whilst our peaceful Flocks do lie Pag. 44     

ONe Night while all the Vil╌lage slept, Myr╌til╌lus sad despair, the wandering Shepherd waking kept, to tell the Woods his care. Be╌gon, said he, fond thoughts, be╌gon; Eyes, give your sorrows o'er: Why should you wast your tears for one that thinks on you no more, that thinks on you no more?  

II.  
Yet all the Birds, the Flocks, and Powers,  
That dwell within the Grove,  
Can tell how many tender Hours  
We here have past in Love.  
You Stars above, my cruel Foes  
Can tell, how she has sworn  
A thousand times, that like to those  
Her Flames shall ever burn,  
Her Flames shall, &c.   

III.  
But since she's lost, O let me have  
My wish, and quickly die!  
In this could Bank I'll make a Grave,  
And there forgotten lie.  
Sad Nightingales the Watch shall keep,  
And kindly there complain;  
Then down the Shepherd lay to sleep,  
But never waked again,  
But never, &c.   Mr. Graboe.  

BId the sad for╌sa╌ken Grove to sigh for e╌ver, sigh as much as I; bid the due fall, and the Sky weep a╌pace, weep like the Queen of Love, it can╌not be more show'ry than her Face. Ah hapless De╌i╌ty! and still more wretched, 'cause she may not die: Can there be far╌ther Joy in the Ce╌le╌stial store, now my best Heaven, Ado╌nis, is no more; he is no more, no more?  Mr. Farmer.  

CEase, if thou canst; pursue no more; Lucinda's altered much of late, so changed from what she was before, that she re╌signs thee up to Fate; no more at╌ten╌tive to thy prayers. In vain are all thy sighs, in vain thy tears: In vain are all thy sighs, in vain thy tears.  Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

CAn life be a Blessing, or worth the possessing? can life be a Blessing, if Love were away? Ah no! though our Love all night keep us wa╌king; and though he tor╌ment us with cares all the day, yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains with the taking: There's an hour at the last, there's an hour to re╌pay.  

II.  
In every possessing, the ravishing blessing;  
In every possessing the fruit of our pains:  
Poor Lovers forget long Ages of Anguish,  
What e're they have suffered, or done to obtain.  
'tis a pleasure, a pleasure, to sigh and to languish,  
When we hope, when we hope to be happy again.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

fie, Cloris, fie, this cru╌el╌ty, with which you answered my chast flamme, Is in effect plain Tyranny, tho you dis╌own a Tyrant's Name. My freedom, e're I saw your Eyes, without con╌trole I still en╌joy'd: But when my Heart was made your prise, that hap╌pi╌ness was quiter de╌stroy'd.  

II.  
For your Idea still remains,  
spite of your scorn, within my breast;  
Raising chimaeras in my Brains,  
When I dispose myself to rest:  
But if at any time I be  
Deluded with a slumber there;  
The Image of your Cruelty  
Does in sad Dreams to me appear.   

III.  
Thus by your Rigour have I made  
Me more unhappy than you're Fair;  
And having all my Peace betrayed,  
You leave me solely in despair.  
Then, Cloris, if you needs must hate,  
Conceal it yet in Charity;  
And pity, pity, my hard Fate,  
Which else must end in Misery.    

BEneath the stately Cedar's shade, a Grove for Love's soft hours, Nature her Velvet Car╌pet spread, embroidered by fair Flo╌ra's hand, with all her choicest flowers. With ma╌ny woes and shane op╌prest, the bright Ca╌li╌sta laid her ten╌der Limbs there down to rest, whose Beau╌ties to the lust╌ful King her Honour had be╌tray'd.  

II.  
Complaining thoughts could find no vent,  
Such crowds of Sorrows came;  
And still as upwards they were sent,  
alas! her bashful Tongue refused  
with words to own her shane.  
But to the Gods with showers of Tears,  
And Heart-sick Groans, she cried,  
Ah! end my wretched Life and Cares,  
Revenge, revenge his Crimes on me;  
so fell, and sighed, and died.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

LEt the da╌ring Advent'rers be tossed on the Main, and for Riches no dangers de╌cline; tho with hazard the Spoils of both In╌dies they gain, they can bring us no Treasure like Wine: Tho with hazard the Spoils of both Indies they gain, they can bring us no Treasure like Wine.  

II.  
Enough of such Wealth would a beggar enrich,  
And supply great wants in a King:  
'T would smooth all the Griefs in a comfortless wretch,  
And inspire weeping Captives to sing.  
'T would smooth, &c.   

III.  
There's none that groans under a burdensome Life,  
If this sovereign balsam he gains.  
This will make a Man bear all the Plagues of a Wife,  
And of Rags and Diseases in Chains.  
This will make, &c.   

IV.  
It swells all our Veins with a kind purple Flood,  
And puts Love and great Thoughts in the Mind:  
There's no Peasant so rank, but it fills with good Blood,  
And to Gallantry makes him inclined.  
There's no Peasant, &c.   

V.  
There's nothing our Hearts with such Joys can bewitch,  
For on Earth 'tis a Power that's Divine:  
Without it we're wretched, though never so rich;  
Nor is any Man poor that has Wine.  
Without it we're, &c.    

LEt the Traytors plot on, till at last they're undone, by hurting their Brains to de╌coy us: We whose hearts are at rest in our Loy╌al╌ty's blessed, what De╌mon or power can an╌noy us? Am╌bi╌tion, like Wine, does the Sen╌ses confounded; and Treason's a dam╌na╌ble thing: Then let him that thinks well see his brimmer go Chorus. round; and pray for the safe╌ty and life of the King. Let Caesar live long, let Caesar live long; for e╌ver be hap╌py, and e╌ver be young: And he that dares hope to change King for a Pope, let him die, let him die, while Caesar lives long.  

II.  
How happy are we when our Hearts are all free,  
And blessed in our Sacred Obedience;  
Whilst the politic Fool that's ambitious to Rule,  
Still bauks at the Oath of Allegiance.  
He trembles, and flies from his numerous Foes,  
Like a dear that the Hunters surround;  
Whilst we, that hate all that would Monarchs depose,  
Make the joys of our Hearts like our Glasses abound.  
Chor. Let Caesar live long, &c.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

CLo╌rin╌da, adieu, since you slight what is true, no lon╌ger I'll Court for dis╌dain; tho your Charms are delightful, your Scorns are as frightful, I'll never Court longer in vain. I'll rove up and down, and I'll ransack the Town, but I'll find out a Nymph that's more true; I'm re╌solv'd to de╌fie your proud scorns, tho I die: So adieu, fair Clo╌rin╌da, a╌dieu.  Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

NOthing I know, yet feel a pow'r╌ful Fire burning within in my breast, through deep de╌sire to be once more where first I felt un╌rest, which can╌not be ex╌prest. Oh my sole Good! Oh my best hap╌pi╌ness! Why am I thus retained? Is there no comfort in this wretchedness? Then let me live con╌tent to be thus pained.   

A NORTHERN SONG.  
SAw╌ney was tall, and of no╌ble Race, and loved me bet╌ter than a╌ny yen; but now he ligs by a╌no╌ther Lass, and Saw╌ney, ne're be my Love a╌gen. I gave him a fine Scoch Sark and Band, I put them on with mine own hand; I gave him a House, I gave him Land, yet Saw╌ney will ne're be my Love a╌gen.  

II.  
I robbed the Groves of all their Store.  
And Nosegays made to give Sawney one;  
He kissed my breast, and fain would do more,  
good Feth, me thought he was a bonny on●.  
He squeezed my Fingers, grasped my Knee,  
And carved my Name on each green three;  
sighed and languished to lig by me,  
But now he will ne're be my Love again.   

III.  
My Boongrace, and my Sun-burnt Face,  
He praised, and also my Russet Gown;  
But now he dotes on the Copper Lace  
Of some lewd Queen of LONDON Town.  
He gangs and gives her Curds and Cream,  
whilst I poor Soul sit sighing at heam;  
I ne're joy Sawney unless in a Dream,  
For now he will ne're be my Love again.    

A Dieu to the Curse of a Coun╌te╌ry Life, too long I have proved it, and found it a Thief: To a Soul that would be un╌con╌fin'd, brisk, and free, 'tis a cru╌el and an in╌sup╌por╌ta╌ble Grief; to a Soul that would be un╌con╌fin'd, brisk, and free, 'tis a cru╌el, and an in╌sup╌por╌ta╌ble grief.  

II.  
Let Country Sots boast of their empty delights,  
The City and Court yet my Fancy invites:  
And more pleasure yields  
Than the naked Fields,  
Which with nothing but thoughts the Genius affrights.  
And more pleasure, &c.   

III.  
Then give me the pleasure, omnipotent Fate,  
That now I enjoy, though at ne're such a rate:  
For the dull Country Life  
Suiting only a Wife,  
I much more than old Age and Impotence hate.  
For the dull, &c.   Mr. James Hart.  

blushy not redder than the Morning, tho the Virgins gave you warning. Sigh not at the Chance befell ye, tho they smile and dare not tell ye: Sigh not at the Chance befell ye, tho they smile and dare not tell ye.  

II.  
Maids like Turtles love the Cooing,  
Bill, and in Arms, in their Wooing:  
' They like you, they start and tremble,  
And their troubled Joys dissemble.  
' They like you, &c.   

III.  
Grasp the Pleasure while 'tis coming,  
Though your Beauties now are blooming:  
Time at last your Joys will sever,  
And they'l part, they'l part for ever.  
Time at last, &c.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

AMintor heedless of his Flocks, his Fl. which once employed his care, now strays himself a╌mong the Rocks, and to's Sorrow adds Despair. Oh! cru╌el Claris╌sa, cries he, you for╌bid me your Sight, when you know 'twas your Eyes that undid me. Pray revoke the sad Fate to which I am doomed, or else in these Flames I shall soon be consumed.  

II.  
Then up he took his Pipe and played,  
And gently with the Passion striven:  
But straight the Reed aside he laid,  
To sing of his neglected Love.  
If ever poor Man that was wracked in despair  
prevailed on the Cruel, or softened the Fair;  
Then pity Clarissa, Oh! pity the swain,  
Whose life's but a Torment, till you cure his Pain.   

III.  
Then down he laid him on the Ground,  
His Cares inclining him to sleep;  
But he much rather Troubles found,  
That wretched Lovers waking keep.  
Then as if from some Dream in a maze he came,  
He started, and started, and called on her Name:  
Return my Clarissa, or else you'l undo me,  
For sleeping and waking my griefs do pursue me.   Mr. Henry Pursell.  

PA╌sto╌ra's Beau╌ties when unblown, e're yet the ten╌der Bud did cleave, to my more ear╌ly Love were known, their fa╌tal power I did perceive. How of╌ten in the dead of Night, when all the World lay hushed in sleep, have I thought this my chief delight, to sigh for you, for you to weep?  

II.  
Upon my Heart, whose Leaves of white  
No Letter yet did ever slain:  
Fate( whom none can control) did writ,  
The fair Pastora here must Reign.  
Her Eyes, those darling Suns, shall prove  
Thy Love to be of nobest Race;  
Which took its flight so far above  
All human things, on her to gaze.   

III.  
How can you then a Love despise?  
A Love that was infused by you;  
You gave Breath to its Infant sighs,  
And all its Griefs that did ensue.  
The power you have to wound, I feel,  
How long shall I of that complain?  
Now show the power you have to heal,  
And take away the tort'ring pain.   Mr. Henry Pursell.  

HOw I sigh when I think of the Charms of my Swain, and remember how sweetly he kindness can feign; Oh! I rather would love all his falshoods than try: There still is some pleasure, though 'twere but to die.  Mr. Henry Pursell.  

SInce one poor View has drawn my heart into the charming Snare; from my Confinements I'll ne're part, but still your Fetters wear. What more Amintor can you do? Now you the Conquest have, 'tis Cruelty thus to pursue a wounded yielding Slave.  Mr. Henry Pursell.  

WHen her lan╌guish╌ing Eyes said, Love! too soon the soft Charm I obeyed; for my Passion she would not ap╌prove, and I find I was on╌ly betrayed: Which makes me con╌tend with my Chain, and the Pow╌ers a╌bove I im╌plore; that if she regard not my Pain, I may die, and ne're see her more.  Mr. Henry Pursell.  

I Take no pleasure in the Sun's bright Beams, nor in the Chry╌stal Ri╌vers purling Streams; but in a dark and si╌lent sha╌dy Grove, I sigh out woes of my neglected Love. Come cru╌el Fair, and Charm me, e're I go to Death's em╌bra╌ces in the Shades below: For tho condemned and fettered, here I lie, till I your Sentence have, I cannot die. One look from those dear Eyes, and then a╌dieu, to all your Cruelties and Beau╌ties too.  Mr. Henry Pursell.  

POor Cle╌o╌nice, thy Garlands tear from off thy Widow'd brow, and bind thy loose dishevelled Hair with Yew and Cypress now: And since the Gods decreed his Years should have so short a date, let thy sad Eyes pay Seas of Tears, as Tribute to his Fate.  

II.  
The Trees a duller Green have worn,  
Since that dear Swain is gone;  
The tender Flocks their Pastor mourn,  
And bleat a sadder moan.   

III.  
The Birds that did frequent these Groves,  
To happier Mansions fly;  
And all that once smiled on our Loves,  
Now seem to bid me die   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

I Yet am free, why should I be subject to any heaven but thee? I scorn thy Art, Cupid, and Dart; thou mayst not, shalt not wound my Heart: For if thou'dst here a Captive gain; know, Fondling, thou attempt'st in vain.  Mr. James Hart.  

AH! lay by your Lute: Ah! Lucasia, forbear; whilst your Tongue I may hear, other music is mute. Ah! lay by your Lute, for the Heav'ns have decreed, That my Heart should submit, that my Heart should submit to none, to none but the Charms of your Wit.  Mr. James Hart.  

A SCOTCH SONG.  
BOn╌ny Lass gin thou wert mine, and twen╌ty thousand Pounds about thee; I'd scorn thy Gow'd for thee my Queen, to lay thee down on a╌ny Green, and show thee how thy Dad╌dy got thee. I'd scorn thy Gow'd for thee my Queen, to lay thee down on a╌ny Green, and show thee how thy Dad╌dy got thee.  

II.  
Bonny Lad, gin thou wert mine,  
And twenty thousand Lords about thee;  
I'd leave them awe to kiss thine Eyn,  
And gang with thee to any Green,  
To show me how my Daddy got me,  
I'd leave them, &c.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

The ANSWER to a late SONG, Let Fortune and Phillis, &c.  
I Love my dear Phillis, and never will change, no generous Man is suspicious; whilst you question the truth, you provoke them to reign, and you prove but yourself the more vicious. You will and you won't, you're a wonder to me, for all other Men do what Fate do decree. If that her Beauty and Humour do meet, she hath power to make you to love her; you're a wandering Slave if your Fetters you break, and 'tis saucy to say you're above her: Where's the Ease you can Chorus. find, if your Love you forego? For without my dear Phillis no Comfort I know. What a Blessing it What a Blessing, &c. is for to have a fair Miss! if she wounds with a Frown, she can heal with a Kiss.  Mr. John Reading.  

OF all the dear Joys, that the World has in store, if Celia prove constant, I'll ask for no more: If she prove but as kind, as her Vows do declare, I'll laugh at the Jealous, and triumph over Care. To clasp the soft dear all night in my Arms, to kiss and embrace, and dissolve with her Charms, and to think that these Joys ever╌lasting shall be, makes revel╌ling Princes less happy than we.  

II.  
So soft are her Charms, and so melting her ways,  
That she conjures fresh Spirits when Passion decays:  
How I 'm drowned in the Bliss of a balmy white Hand!  
She infuses new Nature, and Life doth command.  
On the Banks of her Breasts all my Sorrow she drys,  
And darts through my Soul with her languishing Eyes:  
She raises my Love, which was bent, with a Joy,  
And cures with those Pleasures, which before did destroy.   Mr. John Reading.  

Upon the loss of a MISTRESS.  
O How I am greiv'd, that now I must part with her that I once called my own; e're since my poor Breast was by Phillis pos╌sest, such Sorrow by me was ne're known. I thought that her Charms would have kept off all Harms, and I ne're dreamed of this, when close in her Arms: since you For╌tune, can be so unfaith╌ful to me; Ah tell me! ah tell me, how true you are to those Men that can flat╌ter like you!  Mr. John Reading.  

SEE how, see how the flowers a╌dorn the Spring, how the Birds with cheerful Notes to╌ge╌ther sing, all Joy, Peace, and Concord to every thing. Then let us be as they are free, there's no loss so great as our Liberty: Then let us be as they are free, there's no loss so great as our Li╌ber╌ty. None, none shall disturb us with Envy, Pride, or Care, nor will we live by Hope, or die by Despair; but Live, Love, and Laugh, and be as free as Air. Hark, hark, methinks I hear a found from a neighbouring Grove rebound; says, If happy you'l be, you must keep your Mind free; there's no pleasure, no pleasure, like Li╌ber╌ty.  Mr. William Turner.  

HAil to the Myr╌tle shade, all hail to the Nymphs of the Field; Kings will not here in╌vade, tho virtue all Free╌dom yields. Beauty here opens her Arms, to soften the languishing Mind; and Phil╌lis unlocks her Charms: Ah Phillis! ah! why so kind?  

II.  
Phillis the Soul of Love, the Joy of Neighbouring Swains;  
Phillis that Crowns the Groves, and Phillis that gilds the Plains:  
Phillis that ne're had the skill to Paint or to Patch, or be fine;  
Yet Phillis, whose Eyes can kill, whom Nature has made Divine.   

III.  
Phillis, whose charming Tongue makes Labour and Pain a delight;  
Phillis that makes the Day young, and shortens the live-long Night.  
Phillis whose Lips lick May, still laugh at the sweets that they bring,  
Where Love never knew decay, but sets with Eternal Spring.    

HOw short is the Pleasure that follows the Pain, a poor Lover is forced to endure; the Joys we long wait for we soon lose a╌gain, and re╌lapse in the midst of the Cure. Ah Phil╌lis! I wish you had still been unkind, since from you I so quickly must part; to think of a Bliss I no longer can find, is a Grief that will break my sad Heart.  Mr. John Reading.  

TEn╌der Maids, let me ad╌vise ye, wink when Lovers would surprise ye; whilst ill natured thoughts you cherish, all your happy moments perish. Torments that in Love be╌fall, wil╌ful Lo╌vers make 'em all: Torments that in Love befall, wil╌ful Lovers make 'em all.  

II.  
Whilst your Cruelties repeated,  
Cruelly by Love you're treated:  
But to wise obedient Lovers,  
Heaven and Earth the Gods discovers.  
Pains in Love, if pains there are.  
Lovers for themselves prepare.   

III.  
Oft despair succeeds disdaining,  
till a Law of Loves ordaining;  
Whilst Tormenters are tormented,  
Give Content and be contented.  
Pains in Love, if pains there are,  
Lovers for themselves prepare.   Mr. John Reading.  

IN╌sult not too much on the fading suc╌cess, for all that thou hast I be╌fore did pos╌sess; I know, my proud Rival, how hap╌py thou art, I know ev'ry Joy, and each thought of thy Heart. To tempt thee those Pleasures were ta╌ken from me, and to gain a new Beauty, he'l take them from thee: To tempt thee those Pleasures were taken from me, and to gain a new Beauty, he'l take them from thee.  Mr. John Reading.  

COme all the Youths, whose Hearts have bled by cru╌el Beau╌ties Pride; bring each a Garland on his Head, let none his Sorrows hid: But hand in hand a round me move, singing the sad╌dest Tales of Love; and try when your Complaints ye join, if all your wrongs can e╌qual mine.  

II.  
The happ'est Mortal once was I,  
My Heart no Sorrow knew;  
Pity the Pain with which I die;  
But ask not whence it grew:  
Yet if a Tempting fair you find  
That's very lovely, very kind;  
Though bright as Heaven, whose Stamp she bear,  
Think of my Fate, and shun her Snare.   Mr. Fran. Forcer.  

GIve me thy Youth the time of Love, the now that's in thy power; I'll fall on thee like migh╌ty Jove, in Love a nobler shower. My thoughts shall still be fixed on thee, with Love thy Love re╌ceive; un╌con╌stant then, and fic╌kle be, if Love will give you leave.  

II.  
Can there be falseness in those Eyes?  
Or can those looks betray?  
I'l love thee spite o'th Grave and Wise,  
I'l love thee whilst I may.  
When I'm decrepid Ages Slave,  
And Amorous Flames decay;  
I'l leave my Loving, then be Grave  
And Wise as well as they.   Mr. Isaac Blackwell.  

i'll drink off my Bot╌tle each Night for my share, but as for a Mistress I'll ne╌ver take care; the one makes me Jol╌ly and e╌ver more Gay, but a Mistress de╌stroys in Spor╌ting and Play. She drains all my Blood, till I look just as pale as a Thief that's half starved, long kept in a Gaol; in╌fee╌bles my Nerves, and doth Chorus. shorten my Life, and empties my Pockets, and so doth my Wife. Then Women make Then Women, &c. Asses of those that you can, I'll find out a Comrade, some jol╌ly brave Man; wherein our full Glasses we'l laugh and we'l jest, and perhaps for di╌ver╌sion we'l drink to the best.  Mr. John Reading.  

HOw happy's that prisoner that Conquers his Fate in silence, and ne're on bad For╌tune com╌plains; but care╌les╌ly plays with his Keys on the grace, and makes a sweet Consort with them and his Chains: He drown's Care in Sack, while his thoughts are op╌prest, and makes his Heart float like a Cork in his Breast. Chor. a. 3. voc. Then since we're all Slaves that I╌slan╌ders be, and our Land's a large Prison enclosed with the Then since, &c. Then since, &c. Sea; we'l drink off the Ocean, and set ourselves free, for Man is the World's E╌pi╌to╌my: We'l drink off the Ocean, and set ourselves free, for Man is the World's E╌pi╌to╌my.   

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus. The Claret Bottle.  
A Pox of the Fooling and Plotting of late, what a Po╌ther and A Pox of the Fooling, &c. Stir has it kept in the State? Let the Rabble run mad with Sus╌pi╌cions and Fears; let 'em Scuffle and jar till they go by the Ears: Their Grievances never shall trou╌ble my Pate, so I can en╌joy my dear Bottle at quiet.  

II.  
What Coxcombs were those, who would barter their Ease,  
And their Necks, for a Toy, a thin Wafer and Mass?  
At Old Tyburn they never had needed to swing,  
Had they been but true Subjects to Drink, and their King:  
A Friend and a Bottle is all my Design,  
H'as no room for Treason that's topful of Wine.   

III.  
I mind not the Members and Makers of Laws,  
Let 'em Sit or Prorogue as His Majesty please;  
Let 'em Damn us to Woollen, I'll never repined  
At my Lodging when dead, so alive I have Wine.  
Yet oft in my Drink I can hardly forbear  
To Curse 'em, for making my Claret so dear.   

IV.  
I mind not grave Asses, who idly debate  
About Right and Succession, the Trifles of State;  
We've a good King already, and he deserves laughter,  
That will trouble his head with who shall come after.  
Come here's to his Health, and I wish he may be  
As free from all care and all trouble as we.   

V.  
What care I how Leagues with the Hollander go,  
Or Intrigues betwixt Sidney and Monsieur d'Avaux;  
What concerns it my Drinking if Cassall be sold,  
If the conqueror takes it by Storming or Gold.  
Good Bourdeaux alone is the place that I mind,  
And when the Fleet's coming, I pray for a Wind.   

VI.  
The Bully of France, that aspires to Renown,  
By dull cutting of Throats, and venturing his own:  
Let him fight and be damned, and make Matches and treat,  
To afford News-mongers and Coffee-House chat.  
He's but a brave Wretch, whilst I am more free,  
More safe, and a thousand times happier than be.   

VII.  
Come he or the Pope, or the Devil to boot;  
Or come faggot and Stake, I care not a Groat:  
Never think that in Smithfield I Porters will heat;  
No I swear Mr. Fox, pray excuse me for that.  
I'll drink in Defiance of Gibbet and Halter,  
This is the Profession that never will alter.    

AH cru╌el bloody Fate, what canst thou now do more? alas! 'tis now too late Phi╌lan╌der to restore: Why should the heavenly powers persuade poor Mortals to believe, that they guard us here, and reward us there, yet all our Joys deceive.  

Her poniard then she took, and held it in her hand,  
And with a dying look, cried, thus I Fate command:  
Philander, ah my Love! I come to meet thy Shade below:  
Ah I come, she cried, with a Wound so wide, there needs no second blow.   

In purple Waves her Blood ran streaming down the Floor,  
unmoved she saw the Flood, and blessed her dying Hour:  
Philander, ah Philander! still the bleeding Phillis cried;  
She wept a while, and she forced a Smile, then closed her Eyes and died.   Mr. Henry Pursell.  

LOve you by all that's good, I do more than your Guardian An╌gel far; con╌fu╌sion seize me if I know besides yourself a Woman fair: The Love of you is fixed in every part, and my Eyes speak the Passion of my Heart.  

No Poetry can paint a thing  
So sweet, so beautiful as you;  
Not one: You're all so ravishing,  
You'd make Imagination true.  
Your powerful Charms will make a stoic find  
Nature has been extravagantly kind.   

But Age must come, and Charms will seize  
The Time when Lovers disappear;  
But I will love you past all these,  
Love me but now while Youth is here.  
Content I'll set me down, Love on and sing,  
The Winter's o'er because I've had the Spring.    

AS freezing Fountains, when the Sun goes off their Streams with-hold, and to their own im╌bra╌ces run till all congealed with could; or as a hopeless drooping flower for day de╌par╌ted grieves, possessed of nothing but a shower of Tears up╌on her Leaves. Such, such am I in your ab╌sence left so like these Mourners show, that Brooks and flowers of day be╌reft are Pictures of my Woe.  Mr. Pelham Humphrys.  

whilst o╌thers on Dow╌ny nests are lol╌ling on La╌dies Breasts, a suck╌ing of Breath that is tain╌ted, and kis╌sing Lips that are painted; he's up at the sound of the merry merry Horn, and drink of the wholesome breath of the Morn: His Mind and his Bo╌dy is e╌ver em╌ploy╌ing in Pleasures, in Pleasures, are worth the en╌joy╌ing.  Mr. Nicholas Staggins.  

i'll tell thee my Celia, if never before thou'st heard of the Pleasures that Love has in store; true Love is a flamme that for e╌ver burn bright, and Time cannot quench or di╌mi╌nish its Light. To none but Love's Emp'rick 'tis lost when enjoyed, for they never loved truly that e╌ver were cloyed.  Dr. John Blow.  

CLose in a hol╌low si╌lent Cave young Da╌mon slee╌ping lay, himself one hour from Grief to save, and from the scorching day; he Ce╌lia loved, whose Face and Wit did every Shepherd's sense control; whose every Hair was Love's soft Net, whose every Glance a Heart did get, and every Smile a Soul.  

II.  
But see the Balm Lover's Monarch keeps  
To ease a Lover's pain;  
As he in that Mansion slept,  
It fiercely 'gan to Rain:  
Fair Celia wandring through her Farms,  
A silly Lamb from Wolf to save;  
Which caught, she folds in her white Arms,  
And glad to save it from the Storms,  
straight slipped into a Cave.   

III.  
The drowsy Swain began to smile  
To see his Heaven so nigh;  
She doubts and fears, and all the while  
The Lamb stood Bleating by.  
No Breath was left her to complain,  
She's now a Captive to surprise,  
..........  
Thus at the Mercy of her Swain  
The harmless Virgin lies.   Mr. Graboe.  

SInce cruel Thir╌tis you my Torments slight, and take no no╌tice of my amorous flamme, in these Vermilion Letters thus I writ my bloody Reasons to con╌firm the same; in these Ver╌mi╌lion Let╌ters thus I writ my bloo╌dy Reasons to confirm the same, my bloody Reasons to confirm the same. These of my Passion are the live╌ly Marks which from my Veins in Blood you here see writ; touch them, your Breast will kindle with the Sparks the ardent Cha╌ra╌cters are wrecking yet: Touch them, your Breast will kin╌dle with the Sparks the ar╌dent Cha╌ra╌cters are wrecking yet, the ardent Cha╌ra╌cters are wrecking yet.  Mr. James Hart.  

AF╌ter all your Cru╌el╌ty I Love you still, tho by all that's good 'tis much against my will: Ah Phil╌lis! could I my Love to reason bend, my sin╌cere Passion soon would have an end; but un╌hap╌py Damon must condemned remain, for his ten╌der Love that's answered by dis╌dain. Let then your Sentence past, doom your Slave to die, let him not Languish to E╌ter╌ni╌ty.  Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
CHeer up my Friends, the Winter's ending, Spring comes on, and the year's, and the year's a mending. Oh! that the State had the like turn of Fate, that the gen╌tle Winds could o╌ver blow like the Winter's Snow, all the black Storms that are raised be╌low. Hark, how the winged Consort chant it, all in a Concord whilst we want it; to the Fields let's go, and a╌void this Jar╌ring, this horrid noise of Plots and Warring; with the Clink of his self let the Churl please himself, tho we have not the heaps of sordid Treasure, we'll make it up with mirth and pleasure, we'll make it up with mirth and plea╌sure. Na╌ture is kind and gen╌tle, she from Discord and Re╌bel╌lion, and Re╌bel╌lion free. Her Offspring was for Love designed, so once the Race of Human kind, in Friendship and in Peace unbind. Since then 'tis so, why should not we, when sweetness drops from every three, like all the World melt, melt, melt, into Har╌mo╌ny?  Mr. William Turner.  

SYl╌via, tell me how long it will be before you do grant my desire; is there no end of your Cru╌el╌ty, but must I consume in this Fire? You'l not tell me you love me, nor yet that you hate, but take pleasure in seeing me Lan╌guish: O Syl╌via! pi╌ty my desperate state, for thou art the cause of my An╌guish.  

II.  
Damon, know that I never shall be  
I th' humour to grant your desire;  
Nor am I guilty of Cruelty,  
Because you are scorched in your Fire:  
If you'l bear with my humour, I love to be plain,  
I'm so pleased, that I seem not your Anguish;  
O Damon! hope no relief to your Pain,  
But love for your Pleasure and Languish.    

A. 2. Voc.  
SInce you have Wars removed, and given three Kingdoms rest, there never was King so loved, nor e╌ver was Land so blessed; and at your auspicious Birth, we our ge╌ne╌ral Joys improve, for the day we give all to Mirth, and the Night is too short for our Love.   

A. 2. Voc.  
SUre Nature never yet designed, that Beauty should be so unkind; her Gifts for want of usage are de╌stroy'd: Beauty's not Beauty when it is enjoyed; and what greater Curse can on Females be laid, than to live a young Widow, or die an old Maid.   

CHange, Oh! change your fatal Bows, since neither knows the Virtue of each others Darts; a╌lass! what will become of Hearts? If it prove a Death to Love, we shall find Death will be cru╌el to be kind; for when he shall to Armies fly, where Men think Blood too cheap to buy themselves a Name, he reconciles them, and deprives the Valiant Men of more than Lives, of Vi╌cto╌ry and famed. Whilst Love deceived by these could Shafts, instead Chorus. of curing, wounded Hearts, must kill in╌deed. Take pi╌ty Gods, some ease the World will find, to give young Cupid Eyes, or strike Death blind: Death should not then have his own will, and Love by see'ng Men blind leave off to kill.  Dr. Christopher Gibbons.  

VI╌cto╌rious Men of Earth, no more proclaim how wide your Empires are, tho you bind in every Shore, and your Triumphs reach as far as night or day; yet you proud Monarchs must o╌bey, and mingle with for╌sa╌ken Ashes, when Death calls you to the crowd of common Men, de╌vou╌ring Famine, Plague, and War, each a╌ble to un╌do Mankind, Death ser╌vile E╌mis╌sa╌ries are, nor to these a╌lone con╌fin'd. Chorus. He hath at will more quaint and sub╌til ways to kill, a Smile or Kiss, as he will use the Art, shall have the cun╌ning skill to break the Heart.  Dr. Christopher Gibbons.  

THus Mortals must sub╌mit to Fate, some more ear╌ly, some more late; Life to this World is on╌ly lent, and is re╌paid by time and ac╌ci╌dent, and is repaid by time and ac╌ci╌dent. Why then should wretched Souls repined, that they are soo╌nest made Di╌vine, and go where they shall be se╌cure of Joys, and no more shocks of Chance endure: Their Joys are per╌fect and no care, nothing is left to wish or fear: Their Joys are perfect and no care, nothing is left to wish or fear. How happy, how happy's the Soul that has took his best flight from darkness to light, from below to above; from en╌vy and hatred, to praise and to Love; from en╌vy and hatred, from en╌vy and hatred, to praise and to Love.  Mr. William Turner.  

NOw, now the Fight's done, and the great God of War lies sleeping in shades, and un╌ruf╌fles his Care: Love laughs at his Rest, and the Souldiers alarms; he Drums, and he Trumpets, and struts in his Arms. He rides on his Lance, and the Bushes he bangs; and his broad bloody Sword on the Willow three hangs.  

II.  
Love smiles when he feels the sharp point of his Dart,  
And he wings it to hit the grim God in the Heart;  
Who leaves his Steel Bed, and his Bolsters of Brass,  
For Pillows of Roses, and Couches of Grass:  
His Corser of Lightning is grown so slow,  
That a Cupid i'th' Saddle sits bending his Bow.   

III.  
Love, Love is the cry, Love and Kisses go round,  
While Phillis and Damon lye clasped on the Ground;  
The Shepherd who soon does his Pleasure destroy,  
'tis Abortive, she cries, and he murders my Joy:  
But he Rallies again with the force of her Charms,  
And kisses, embraces, and dies in her Arms.    

A DIALOGUE between PHILIDA and CORIDON.  Philida. 
UNderneath some shady bowers, which were made for Lovers hours, thither let thee and I go stray,  Coridon. 
And wait the hours of this pleasant day:  Philida. 
Whilst there we name the Gods above, we'll think of nought but how they Love.  Coridon. 
Love is a thing that is too stale for our Pastoral's pleasant Tale.  Philida. 
Ah no! for Love hath made me smart and bleed,  Coridon. 
Just so it hath my Heart; for it doth sympathise with thine, whilst wholly Phi╌lida is mine.  Philida. 
Then let us to Love's Altars pay the rest of this our hap╌py day. Chor. a. 3. Voc. We'll make a Con╌cor╌dance with these our Charms, em╌bra╌cing each o╌ther in We'll make a Con╌cor╌dance, &c. We'll make a Con╌cor╌dance, &c. Loves folded Arms: We'll make our Flocks feed near some sha╌dy Hill, whilst all our Lives long with pleasures we'll fill. Those Lovers are hap╌py, who fan╌cy that they can keep the same Laws which the Gods do o╌bey.  Mr. John Reading.  

WHilst our peaceful Flocks do lie, safe╌ly kept by care╌ful Eye; every pret╌ty blea╌ting Lamb close╌ly ly╌ing by his Dam. Early hither do we press, fairest, loveli'st Shepherdess; for to Ce╌le╌brate thy Praise in our soft and well tuned lays. Chor. a. 2. Voc. blessed be our mighty Pan, blessed be our mighty Pan; and that bright she, to whom we blessed be our mighty Pan, blessed be our mighty Pan; and that bright she, to whom we owe all our Fe╌li╌ci╌ty. blessed be our mighty Pan, blessed be our owe all our Fe╌li╌ci╌ty. blessed be our mighty Pan, blessed be our mighty Pan; and that bright she, to whom we owe all our Fe╌li╌ci╌ty. mighty Pan; and that bright she, to whom we owe all our Fe╌li╌ci╌ty.  

II.  
Never yet so sweet a Face,  
Did our humble Valleys grace;  
Nor so soft and fair a Hand,  
Ever Shepherd's Hook command.  
Chiefest Glory of our Pains,  
loved by all the noblest Swains;  
Who breath all but one Desire,  
Learn for ever to admire.   

III.  
Nay, that Beauty that doth still,  
All that look with wonder kill;  
Bloom for ever fresh and gay,  
Like the Riches of the May.  
On your Lips withall excel,  
May their Native Coral dwell;  
With each Feature and each Line,  
Gracing her that's so Divine.    

A. 2. Voc.  
ALL hail to the glorious Spring, and to e╌ve╌ry painted flower; they make me a migh╌ty King, and bow to my short lived power: From their Earthly Beds, see how they raise their dew╌y heads; see how they offer at my Feet, Chorus. all that is beau╌ti╌ful and sweet. Who would sub╌mit to the Cares of the Great, and the Who would sub╌mit to the Cares of the Great, and the Dangers that wait on his Fall; when Nature's a Sub╌ject to ev'╌ry Wit, and a Dangers that wait on his Fall; when Nature's a Sub╌ject to ev'╌ry Wit, and a Man that's con╌ten╌ted has all. Man that's con╌ten╌ted has all.  

II.  
What Beauty or Art sheeps  
The Jessamines fragrant Sweet;  
The blushy of the full-blown Rose,  
Or Lilly's Eye dazzling white?  
These, and wear the Field,  
Cool Groves, and crystal Rivers yield;  
The Morning Sun, and Evening Shade,  
Nature for happy Man has made.    
Words by Mr. A. Cowley. First Verse. 
AWake, a╌wake, a╌wake, my Lyre, and tell thy si╌lent Masters humble Tale; a╌wake, a╌wake, a╌wake, my Lyre, and tell thy si╌lent Masters humble Tale, in Sounds that may prevail; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire, tho so ex╌al╌ted she, and I so low╌ly be, tell her such different Notes make all thy Har╌mo╌ny.  Second Verse. 
Hark, hark, how the Strings awake, and tho the mo╌ving hand approach not near, themselves with aweful Fear a kind of numerous trembling make: Hark, hark, how the Strings awake, and tho the moving hand approach not near, themselves with aw╌ful Fear a kind of numerous trem╌bling make. Now all thy For╌ces try, now all thy Charms ap╌ply; revenge up╌on her Ear the Conquest of her Eye, revenge up╌on her Ear the Conquest of her Eye.  Third Verse, Bass alone. 
Weak Lyre, this virtue sure is use╌less here, since thou art on╌ly found to cure, but not to wound; and she to wound, but not to cure. Too weak too wilt thou prove, my Passion to remove; physic to o╌ther Ills, th'art Nou╌rish╌ment to Love.  Fourth Verse. 
Sleep, sleep again my Lyre, for thou canst never tell my humble Tale, in sounds that may prevail; nor gentle, though in her in╌spire; all thy vain Mirth lay by, bid thy Strings silent lie. Sleep, sleep again my Lyre, and let thy Master die; sleep again my Lyre, and let thy Master die.  
This SONG was by Dr. Blow Composed, to be performed with Instrumental music, Symphony's and Ritornello's, of four Parts betwixt every Verse; and likewise Chorus's of four Voices betwixt every Verse: But as it is here printed, you have all which is to be sung alone to the Theorbo, and is suitable to the rest in this Book.  Dr. John Blow.  

POor Ma╌ri╌a╌na long in vain within her constant Breast, harboured a Passion for her Swain, which could not be suppressed: The Youth an e╌qual flamme did own, yet 'twas but a pretence; for his false Heart was quickly shown by its in╌dif╌fe╌rence.  

II.  
This though it pierced the tender Maid with deepest Agony,  
Yet would she not upbraid her Swain of his inconstancy:  
But ah! said she, the fault's my own, that I this usage find;  
For could I just desert have shown, the Youth had still been kind.   

III.  
Then she began thus to deplore her own unhappiness,  
The only Remedy in store for Virgins in distress:  
alas! she cried, what Fate is mine, there to have fixed my Love;  
Where, Shepherd, I can't merit thine, nor yet my own remove!    

A PASTORAL SONG set by Mr. William Gregory, in memory of his deceased Friend Mr. Pelham Humphrys, one of the Gentlemen of HIS MAJESTY'S chapel, and Master of the Children of the chapel.  [ Words by Mr. T. Flatman.] 
DId you not hear the hideous groan, the sighs and hea╌vy moan, that spread themselves o'er all the pen╌sive Plain, and rent the Breast of many a tender Swain? 'twas for A╌min╌tas, dead and gone. Sing ye for╌sa╌ken Shepherds, sing his Praise, in careless Me╌lan╌cho╌ly lays: Lend him a lit╌tle doleful breath, poor A╌min╌●as, poor A╌min╌tas, cruel Death. 'twas thou that mad'st dead words to live, thou that dull Numbers didst in╌spire, with charming Voice, and tune╌ful Lyre: That Life to all but to thyself couldst give, why couldst thou not thy wondrous Art bequeath? Poor Amin╌tas, Chor. a. 2. Voc. poor A╌min╌tas, cru╌el Death. Sing, pious Shepherds, sing whilst you Sing, pious Shepherds, sing whilst you may, before the ap╌proa╌ches of the fa╌tal Day; for you yourselves that sing, that may, before the ap╌proa╌ches of the fa╌tal Day; for you yourselves that sing, that sing this mournful Song, a╌lass! e're it be long, shall like A╌min╌tas breathless sing this mournful Song, a╌lass! a╌lass! e're it be long, shall like A╌min╌tas be, tho more for╌got╌ten in the Grave, in the Grave, than he; tho more for╌ breathless be, tho more for╌got╌ten in the Grave, the Grave, than he; got╌ten in the Grave, in the Grave, than he. tho more for╌got╌ten in the Grave, the Grave, than he.   

A PASTORAL ELEGY on the Earl of Rochester, who died the 26th of July, 1680. Set by Dr. John Blow.  [ Words by Mr. T. Flatman.] 
AS on his Death-bed gasping Stre╌phon lay; Strephon the won╌der of the Plains, the noblest of the Arcadian Swains, Strephon the bold, the wit╌ty, and the gay: With many a Sigh, and ma╌ny a Tear, he said, Remem╌ber, re╌mem╌ber me ye Shepherds when I'm dead; remember me ye Shepsherds, re╌mem╌ber me ye Shepherds when I'm dead. Ye trifling Glories of the World a╌dieu, and vain ap╌plau╌ses of the Age; for when we quit this mortal Stage, be╌lieve me, Shepherds, for I tell you true, those Pleasures which from virtuous deeds we have, create the sweetest Slum╌bers in the Grave. Then since your fa╌tal hour will surely come, surely your Heads lay low as mine, your bright Me╌ri╌dian Sun decline; beseech the mighty Pan to guard you home, if in E╌li╌zium you would hap╌py be: Live not like Strephon, but like Strephon die; live not like Strephon, but like Strephon die.  
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
MR. Playford desires to give notice to his Musical Friends in or about LONDON, That his Dwelling-house is now at the lower end of Arundel-Street, over against the George; and that there, or at his Shop near the Temple Church, all such as desire to be accommodated with such choice Consorts of music for Violins and Viols, as were Composed by Dr. Colman, Mr. William Laws, Mr. John Jenkins, Dr. Benjamin Rogers, Mr. Matthew lock, and divers others, may have them fairly and true pricked. Also most of the choicest Vocal Hymns and Psalms for two and three voices, Composed by Mr. William and Henry laws, Mr. lock, Mr. Jenkins, Dr. Rogers, and other choice Masters. He has also a large Collection of the new Instrumental music for two Trebles and Bass.   

CHOICE airs and SONGS TO SING TO THE Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol: BEING Most of the Newest airs and Songs sung at COURT, And at the public theaters.  
Composed by several Gentlemen of His Majesty's music, and others.  
THE FOURTH BOOK.  
 
LONDON, Printed by A. Godbid and J. Playford Junior, and are Sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple Church; and John Carr, at his Shop at the Middle-Temple Gate, 1683.   

TO ALL LOVERS and UNDERSTANDERS OF music.  
GENTLEMEN,  
THIS Fourth Book has met with the same Fate as my former, not to come abroad at the time proposed; but the fault is not altogether mine; for I have met with great Disappointments in this Collection, large Promises, and but slender Performances; and had it not been for the assistance of some worthy Gentlemen, my very good Friends,( whose kindness I shall always aclowledge) I might have despaired of my Undertaking. Most of the Songs have had the Approbation of( and are composed by) the best Masters in music, so that my Commendation can add little to their Value: However it is probable some ignorant Persons may unjustly censure them, like a certain Pretender to music,( who boasted himself a Scholar of Mr. Birchenshaw's) who publicly declared, That in my last Book there was but three good Songs, the rest being worse than common Ballads sung about Streets by Foot-boys and Link-boys; but( as Solomon, the wisest of Men, has it) the way of a Fool is right in his own Eyes, and he that despiseth his Neighbour is voided of Wisdom. As for such Gentlemen who really understand music, I doubt not but they will give this, as they have done the former, a better reception; and that to them it will appear, that my Design is more the public Good, than my own private Gain. I have with no small pains and care printed the Songs as true as possible from the best Copies, and have not imposed Trash upon the Buyer, like the Publishers of the late Collection of Songs in Octavo, wherein( besides the bad Collection) there is scarce one line of music true in the whole Book. There has been a great deal of care to do this Book well, and therefore I hope it will be so accepted, which will oblige,  
GENTLEMEN, Your Servant JOHN PLAYFORD.   

great deal more comfortable and warm than a squirrel in the sleeve. But if you happen upon one, that has worn the Philosopher so long, that two or three of his Phrases are got through his pocket, and at last have insinuated themselves into his temper: he proves presently a chairman in all companies: and if he lucks but upon a Clergy-man, he is as great a Prince, as ever Mr. Hobbs gave power to. Then, come Sir, says he, Come now for your Immaterial substances; have you ever a one about you, Sir? I hear that you are much acquainted with them: you live by the Spirit, Sir; it is a wonder that you should not have one in your pocket: I have got honest Material Mr. Hobbs in mine. I could show you for a need, Sir, Spirit of Wine, Spirit of Salt, or Spirit of Hartshorn: but I have inquired, and never could get, or see any Spirit of substance. Spirit of Substance! that's fine indeed. What, Essence of Essence? pretty I profess. Indeed we have had a very curious time of it, a company of very seeing Priests, and searching Philosophers: that should go on, and on, and teach one another such plain, palpable, and manifest contradictions. Ask them how such an effect comes to pass: it is done, say they, by an incorporeal substance. Wonderfully acute indeed! that is, by no body: or by a no body body: or by a no thing thing. It was very well for this Nation, that Mr. Hobbs was born at last; and half a dozen of us, of willingness, and parts, to understand him; otherwise the world had continued in a brave blind condition. It is not, Sir, to my purpose, at present, to meddle with, or examine their Masters Principles: but I much wonder, seeing they may be daily convinced how much he has been mistaken in his Mathematical attempts; that they should take his bare word, and believe him not to be failing in his other Writings; because he confidently says he proceeds by evident connexion, and demonstration. And whereas heretofore it was a work of many years study, and seriousness that could entitle one but to be suspected of Atheism: now he that has but seen Mr. Hobbs's Boots, and can make but a Mouse-trap, is as fully privileged, as if he could pluck up the Earth by the roots, or make a man.  
I believe, Sir, there may be several others that without any reason at all are ill affencted towards the Clergy. One thinks that whatever Episcopacy be, yet the Lands thereunto belonging are not jure divino: another is of opinion that the Clergy must by no means ride; because they are to go, and teach all Nations. And others there be, who are therefore against tithes, because they think they give them. But these were partly mentioned in my former: and if they were not, it is all one; for I can say no more at present, being suddenly sent for into Devonshire: where I expect to find such employment, as will certainly secure the world, from me being ever troublesone in this kind again. I am once more,  
Sir, Your humble Servant. T. B. May 2. 1671.  
FINIS.   

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FINIS.   

THE Night her blackest Sables wore, and gloomy were the Skies; and glittering Stars there were no more, than those in Stella's Eyes: When at her Fa╌ther's Gate I knocked, where I had of╌ten been; and shrouded on╌ly with her Smock, the fair one let me in.  

II.  
Fast locked within her close Embrace,  
She trembling lay ashamed;  
Her swelling Breast, and glowing Face,  
And every touch inflamed.  
My eager Passion I obeyed,  
resolved the Fort to win;  
And her fond Heart was soon betrayed,  
To yield and let me in.   

III.  
Then! then! beyond expressing,  
Immortal was the Joy;  
I knew no greater Blessing,  
So great a God was I.  
And she transported with Delight,  
Oft prayed me come again;  
And kindly vowed, that every night  
She'd rise and let me in.   

IV.  
But, oh! at last she proved with Bern,  
And sighing sate, and dull;  
And I that was as much concerned,  
looked then just like a Fool.  
Her lovely Eyes with Tears run o'er,  
Repenting her rash Sin;  
She sighed, and cursed the fatal hour  
That e're she let me in.   

V.  
But who could cruelly deceive,  
Or from such Beauty part?  
I loved her so, I could not leave  
The Charmer of my Heart.  
But Wedded and concealed the Crime,  
Thus all was well again;  
And now she thanks the blessed Hour,  
That e're she let me in.    

WHen Phillis watched her harmless Sheep, not one poor Lamb was made a Prey; yet she had cause enough to weep, her sil╌ly Heart did go astray: Then fly╌ing to the neighbouring Grove, she left the tender Flock to rove, and to the Winds did breath her Love. She sought in vain to ease her Pain, the heedless Winds did fan her Fire; venting her Grief gave no re╌lief, but rather did increase desire. Then sitting with her Arms across, her Sorrows streaming from each Eye; she sixth her thoughts up╌on her Loss, and in De╌spair re╌solv'd to die.   

HOW wretched am I when Cla╌rin╌da does frown, at her Feet in con╌fu╌sion I fall; and kneeling, on Heaven for as╌si╌stance I call, and court the kind Stars they'd in pi╌ty look down: But in vain to their aid my Mi╌se╌ry flies, for the Gods I but i╌dly implore; 'tis Cla╌rin╌da a╌lone my Peace can restore, no heaven but her Smiles, and no Stars but her Eyes.   

IN vain, in vain, brisk God of Love, in vain have I thy powerful Charms long long striven to de╌fie; for just as when some for╌ti╌fy'd Town has long long held out the Siege, then bat╌ter'd down: So I that ne╌ver feared, nay scorned thy Dart, at length am woun╌ded, wounded, at the Heart. Look then up╌on the Sa╌cri╌fice you've slain, view well the Heart, and see if there one slain of Treachery you find; if not, then say, Ah! Ah! dear, dear Heart! that ne╌ver went a╌stray; dear Heart! that ne╌ver went a╌stray.   

WHilst I in Shades was mu╌sing all a╌lone, I heard a Nymph i'th' Wood thus make her moan: Ah cruel Boy! she cried, thou still dost slight my Sighs, my Groans, a╌las! thou kil'st me quiter; each Wood, each Plain, each Hill, I've traced around, but nought save Fancies for my pains I've found. Ah! cruel Boy! in Sighs again, she said, How oft hast stopped thy Ears, when I have played in charming Notes to melt you stubborn Swain; but still for Love thou dost return disdain. Ah! shall I die! Gods, are ye so unkind! t'afford no aid to my di╌stra╌cted Mind! and at these words she wept, the Woods resound with pier╌cing Groans, a voice she heard rebound: Thus to the Nymph it said, Thy charmed Delights me from my ten╌der Flocks to thee In╌vites, my ra╌vish'd Sen╌ses tran╌ced by your Charms, I'll cir╌cled live, and die within your Arms.   

A. 2. voc.  
GOne are my hap╌py days, all lost, for she that stolen my Heart, stolen then my Li╌ber╌ty; armed with the Spoils of a de╌fence╌less Breast, and in the richest Garb of Nature dressed: crowned by her Conquest now she's gone, ne're to remember loving Thirsis moan.  

II.  
Let her in Triumph ride, I'll be as brave,  
With humble Pride I'll follow like a Slave:  
But if amid the Pomp with Scorn she turn,  
And see the Wretch that once for her did burn;  
Just as she backward casts her Head,  
Then her reproachful Eyes will strike me dead.    

IN Phillis all vile Jilts are met, foolish, un╌cer╌tain, false Cocquet; Love is her constant welcome Guest, and still the new╌est pleases best: Quickly she likes, then Soft. leaves as soon, her Life on Woman's a Lampoon; Quickly she likes, then leaves as soon, her Life on Woman's a Lampoon. Yet for the Plague of Human Race, this De╌vil has an angels face: such Youth, such sweetness in her look, who can be Man, and not be took? What former Love, what Wit, what Art, can save a poor inclining Heart? What former Love, what Wit, what Art, can save a poor en╌cli╌ning Heart? In vain a thousand times an hour, Rea╌son re╌bels a╌gainst her power; in vain I rail, I curse her Charms, one look my fee╌ble Rage disarms: There is En╌chant╌ment in her Eyes, who sees 'em can no more be wise; There is En╌chant╌ment in her Eyes, who sees 'em can no more be wise.   

WHat Woman was e╌ver so for╌tu╌nate, as to dis╌co╌ver the fal╌si╌ty of an im╌por╌tu╌nate treacherous Lover; with Cringes and Tears when they vow they will e╌ver o╌bey us, poor cre╌du╌lous we never know they will surely betray us. Persidious Man! let us do what we can, will un╌do us; they de╌sign to deceive, when they make us believe that they woe us: And Perjury's grown such an Art in the Town, so in fashion; that Custom and Time has made it no Crime in the Na╌tion.  

III.  
Our Nation no more shall relent at Men's flattering Anguish,  
Their crocodiles Tears shall no more make us mournfully languish;  
Our Beauty and Wit we will pleasantly use to decoy them,  
As pleasantly then we'l use our Coyness and Frowns to destroy them.   

IV.  
Beautiful Apes, who in mimical shapes do accost us,  
Will most surely repent when they find us relent, and they ha' lost us;  
Their hours they pass in consulting the Glass to find Graces,  
May make us approve, and presently love their Fools faces.    

ON the Bank of a Ri╌ver close under the shade, young clear and Sylva one evening were laid; the Youth pleaded strongly for proof of his Love, but Honour had won her his flamme to reprove. She cried, where's the lustre, when Clouds shade the Sun? or what is rich Nectar, the taste being gone? 'Mongst flowers on the Stalk sweetest Odours do dwell; but if gathered the Rose is, it lo╌ses the smell.  

II.  
Thou dearest of Nymphs, the brisk Shepherd replied,  
If e're thou wilt argue, begin on Love's side:  
In matters of State let grave Reason be shown,  
But Love is a Power will be ruled by none;  
Nor should a coy Beauty be counted so rare,  
For Scandal can blast both the Chast and the Fair.  
Most fierce are the joys Love's alembic do fill,  
And the Roses are sweetest when put to the Still.    

GO on, true Heart! pur╌sue the prise, thy Pas╌sion knows its Doom; 'twill find some pi╌ty in her Eyes, or sand thee slighted home: Yet from her Heart I'll red my Fate, if that to Love in╌cline; it can╌not change so soon to hate, but it must think on mine.  

II.  
Kind Nature will her hate oppose;  
And though she does not love,  
My Passion I will so disclose,  
As shall her pity move.  
Thence from that Pity with new Fire,  
Although her Heart were ston,  
I'll melt it into chast Desire,  
And coin it in my own.    

THat beau╌te╌ous Creature for whom I 'm a Lover, I can╌not, I will not, I must not dis╌co╌ver, I can╌not, I will not, I must not dis╌co╌ver: Yet mark well my Song, and some Token I'll give; for she that both kills my Heart, and makes it live, is Soft. either called Ma╌ry, or Bet╌ty, or Ann. Now guess if you can, now guess if you can.  

II.  
Her Stature is tall, and her Body is slender,  
Her Eyes are most lovely, her Cheeks pale and tender,  
Fine Pearls are her Teeth, and her Lips Cherry read,  
Her Smiles would revive a Man though he were dead,  
She'd make one in love were he never before;  
But I say no more, but I say no more.    

BLess, Mortals, bless the cheering Light that flows from Caelia's Eyes, for never did a Star so bright in Beauties heaven rise: And whilst a Crown's uneasy weight, and all the mighty toils of State, she softens with her Charms, bless, bless, the hap╌py Monarch in her Arms.  

II.  
Who lives that does not yield to Love,  
And oft his Joys renew;  
And yet how few in Kings approve  
What they themselves pursue.  
The murmuring Crowd themselves afford  
The Pleasures they deny their Lord,  
Though Love is Empire's Dower,  
To recompense the Slavery of Power.   Dr. Blow.  

A. 2. voc.  
PHi╌lan╌der once a mer╌ry Swain, a charming Nymph did love; who ne╌ver paid his Love a╌gain, but did un╌con╌stant prove: Fals╌ly the Shepherd she forsook, and did his Love dis╌dain; yet he in love such plea╌sure took, that he embraced the Pain.  

II.  
Such was his Passion, such his flamme,  
So full of Honour too,  
That he still loved to breath her name,  
Although she proved untrue:  
Therefore beneath a Myrtle shade,  
One pleasant Summer's Morn,  
The too unhappy Shepherd laid,  
And did lament her Scorn.   

III  
Thus to himself the wretched Swain,  
Though tender of her famed,  
Of Sylvia's falsehood did complain,  
Yet durst not blast her name:  
Dear Sylvia! why didst thou give way,  
That I should talk of Love,  
Yet knewest thou couldst not Love repay,  
Nor wouldst my flamme remove?   

IV.  
When in its Youth my Passion was,  
'twas easy to remove;  
But now 'tis grown to such a pass,  
The Task too hard will prove:  
For in my Heart the love of you  
Too deeply rooted is;  
'twas the first Grief I ever knew,  
Yet is my greatest Bliss.    

An air on a Ground.  
HIgh State and Honours to o╌thers im╌part, but give me your Heart; that Treasure, that Treasure a╌lone, I beg for my own: So gen╌tle a Love, so frequent a Fire, my Soul does inspire; that Treasure, that Treasure alone, I beg for my own. Your Love let me crave, give me in pos╌ses╌sing so matchless a Bles╌sing, that Empire is all I would have, loves my Petition, and all my Ambition. If e're you dis╌co╌ver so faithful, so faithful a Lover, so re╌al a flamme, I'll die, I'll die, I'll die, so give up my Game.  Mr. Abel.  

On a LADY dressing by a Glass. A. 2. voc.  
OH! do not wrong that Face that is so fair, Na╌ture will chide if you her Work im╌pair; she has been free in gi╌ving all she can, to make you love╌ly, and ad╌mir'd by Man. Then lay a╌side your Glass, let me now ad╌vise you, till Age or Grief, or both, make Men despise you.  

II.  
Narcissus seeing of his lovely Face,  
doted so much he died in's own Embrace;  
If Man did so, what will not Woman do,  
When she surveys what Men admire and woe?  
Then lay aside your Glass, let me now advice you,  
till Age or Grief, or both, make Men despise you.   Mr. William Gregory.  

THE bright Laurinda, whose hard fate it was to love a Swain, ill-natured, faithless, and ingrate, grew wea╌ry of her pain: Long, long, a╌las! she vain╌ly striven, to free her Captive Heart from Love; till urged too much by his Disdain, she broken at last the strong-link'd Chain, and vowed she ne're would love a╌gain.  

II.  
The lovely Nymph now free as Air,  
Gay as the blooming Spring,  
To no soft Tale would lend an Ear,  
But careless sit and sing:  
Or if a moving Story wrought  
Her frozen Breast to a kind thought,  
She checked her Heart, and cried, Ah! hold!  
Amintor thus his Story  told,  
Once burned as much, but now he's could.   

III.  
Long thus she kept her Liberty,  
And by her all-conquering Eyes,  
A thousand Youths did daily die  
Her Beauties Sacrifice:  
till Love at last young clear brought,  
The object of each Virgin's thought,  
Whose strange resistless Charms did move,  
They made her burn and rage with Love,  
And made her blessed as those above.   Capt. pack.  

APox up╌on this need╌less Scorn, Sylvia for shane the Cheat give o'er; the end to which the Fair are born, is not to keep their Charms in store: But la╌vish╌ly dis╌pose in hast of Joys, which none but Youth improve; Joys which decay when Beau╌ties past, and who when Beauties past will love?  

II.  
When Age those Glories shall deface,  
Revenging all your could disdain,  
And Sylvia shall neglected pass,  
By every one admiring Swain:  
And we can only pity pay,  
When you in vain too late shall burn;  
If Love increase, and Youth decay,  
Ah Sylvia! who will make return?   

III.  
Then hast my Sylvia to the Grove,  
Where all the Sweets of May conspire;  
To teach us every Art of Love,  
And raise our Charms of Pleasure higher:  
And when Embracing we shall lie,  
Closely in shades on Banks of Flowers;  
The duller World whilst we defy,  
Years would be Minutes, Ages Hours.   Capt. pack.  

AH! what can mean that ea╌ger Joy, Transports my Soul when you ap╌pear? ah Strephon! you my Thoughts employ, with all that's Charming, all that's dear. When you your pleasing Sto╌ry tell, a ten╌der╌ness in╌vades my Parts; And I with Blush╌es own, I feel something too mel╌ting at my Heart.  

II.  
Each sight my Reason does surprise,  
And I at once both wish and fear;  
My wounded Soul mounts to my Eyes,  
As if 'twould prattle Stories there.  
Take, take that Heart that needs would go,  
But Shepherd, see it kindly used;  
For who such Presents would bestow,  
If this, alas! should be abused?   Mr. William Turner.  

DRaw out the Minutes twice as long, swift Night, and run in debt to day; Loves Ene╌my, thou soft-pac'd robber of Delight, how thou dost steal away. Clo╌rin╌da, bid Time stop his full ca╌rier, whisper a gen╌tle Charm into his Ear; tell him, 'tis you, tell him, 'tis you that's here. Sure nothing's Charm-proof 'gainst that Tongue, those Eyes, that grate╌ful mien of yours; one look from you, from you, will Fa╌ther Time surprise, he'l lose his Minutes, Hours. And well for him; 'tis Time improved, to be blessed with a glimpse of that Di╌vi╌ni╌ty, all will adore, all will a╌dore that see.  Dr. Blow.  

A. 2. voc.  
PHil╌lis, accept a bro╌ken Heart, which none till now could move; Beauty, like yours, should scorn a part, in fa╌ding per╌jur'd Love: Yet I sometimes have seen you smile, on one makes Love a Trade; you smile, but though I hope the while, on those he had be╌tray'd.  

II.  
Must all be Cozeners who are fair?  
And slighted who are true?  
'tis time for me then to despair,  
My Heart's too just for you.  
If you're engaged, then I'm undone,  
Though you should change to me;  
For she that can prove false to one,  
Will false for ever be.   Dr. Blow.  

LOvely Se╌li╌na, in╌no╌cent and free from all the dangerous Arts of Love, thus in a me╌lan╌cho╌ly Grove en╌joy'd the sweetness of her Pri╌va╌cy; till en╌vious Gods de╌sign╌ing to un╌do her, dispatched the Swain not un╌like then to woe her. It was not long e're the design did take; a gen╌tle Youth born to persuade, deceived the too too ea╌sie Maid; her Scrip and Garlands soon she did forsake, and rash╌ly  told the Secrets of her Heart, which the fond Man would e╌ver╌more im╌part. False Florimel, joy of my Heart, said she, 'tis hard to love, and love in vain, to love, and not be loved a╌gain; and why should Love and Prudence dis╌a╌gree? Pi╌ty ye powers that sit at ease a╌bove, if e're you know what 'tis to be in Love.  Dr. John Blow.  

PHil╌lis, whose Heart was un╌con╌fin'd and free, as flowers on Meads and Plains; none boasted of her being kind, 'mongst all the languishing and amorous Swains: No Sighs or Tears her Heart could move, to pi╌ty or re╌turn their Love.  

II.  
till on a time the hapless Maid  
retired to shun the heat o'th' day,  
Into a Grove, beneath whose shade  
Strephon the careless Shepherd slept and lay.  
But oh! such Charms the Youth adorn,  
Love is revenged for all her Scorn.   

III.  
Her Cheeks with blushes covered were,  
And tender sighs her Bosom warmed;  
A softness in her Eyes appeared,  
Unusual Pains she feels from every Charm  
To Woods and echoes now she cries,  
For Modesty to speak denies.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

ORRA-MOOR, a Lapland Song.  
WIth brightest Beams let the Sun shine on Orra-Moor; could I be sure, that from the top of lof╌ty Pine I Or╌ra╌Moor might see, I to the highest Bough would climb, and with industrious labour try, there to de╌scry my Mistress, if that there she be. Could I but know amid the flowers, or in what shade she stays; the gaudy bowers, with all their ver╌dant Pride, their Blossoms and their Sprays, which make my Mi╌stress dis╌ap╌pear, and her in en╌vious dark╌ness hid, I from the Roots and Beds of Earth would tear. Up╌on the Raft of Clouds I'd ride, which un╌to Or╌ra fly; of Ra╌vens I would bor╌row Wings, and all the fea╌ther'd In╌mates of the Sky. But Wings, a╌lass! are me de╌ny'd, the Stork and Swan their Pinions will not lend: There's none who un╌to Or╌ra bring, or will by that kind Conduct me befriend.  Dr. Rogers.  

BEar witness now you silver Streams, and pleasing shady Groves; whose Harmony and Solitude can sweeten harmless Loves: How loud the echoes of my Sighs do ring, for her whose Scorns can me no comfort bring? Ye powers above, grant she may love, and feel those Pangs which I al╌rea╌dy know. For if Love once dwell in her Breast, for if Love once dwell in her Breast, such pleasing Re╌lief will drown all my Grief, and make me a Lover that's blessed.  

II.  
Fly echoes, fly, and in your gentle murmuring Whispers bear  
My Languishing and deep Complaints to my dear Phillis ear;  
Tell her, oh tell her, 'tis for her I die,  
And ask her, when she'l leave off Cruelty?  
Oh powerful Love! come from above,  
And in her chast Heart go take up thy seat:  
For if Love once dwell in her Breast,  
Such pleasing Relief  
Will drown all my Grief,  
And make me a Lover that's blessed.   Mr. Banister.  

MUst poor Lovers still be wooing, Beauties must they ne╌ver gain? Must they always be pursuing, never, never, to obtain? Can you glory in our dy╌ing? bleeding Wounds should pi╌ty move; can you glo╌ry in de╌ny╌ing? yield at last, and crown our Love. Then all the lit╌tle Gods of Love that are near us, and all the sweet Birds of the Grove that can hear us; in the Air and on Boughs shall attend us around, all the Cupids with Roses shall co╌ver the ground, whilst our amorous Birds chanting, the echoes resound.  

II.  
Then with Myrtle Wreaths surrounded,  
Underneath cool Shades we lie;  
Both Eye-wounding, both Eye-wounded,  
There both killing, we'l both die.  
Thy bright Eyes shall gently fire me,  
Mirth, and Wit, and Gallantry;  
And thy charming Looks inspire me,  
With new theme of Poetry.  
Then all the little Gods, &c.    

WHen first Ce╌lin╌da blessed mine Eyes, so pret╌ty and so moving was every Grace, that the surprise took off the power of Loving: The Virtues of her pleasing Charms, my Senses stolen a╌way; Love had no strength to rise in Arms, nor power to O╌bey.  

II.  
As in a Dream, my Spirits all  
Did to my Heart retire;  
Which like a stubborn City Wall,  
Kept out the happy Fire:  
My Heart and Eyes are now awake,  
And all my Dreams are true;  
And Love, to punish my mistake,  
Does all my thoughts pursue.   

III.  
At second view I was amazed,  
And grieved, but troubled most;  
And on that Paradise I gazed,  
Which I so lately lost.  
When that seraphic Face I view,  
Kind Love, with all his powers;  
The best remembrance does renew,  
Of those short happy Hours.   

IV.  
blessed be the Hours that let me know,  
Earth had so rich a Treasure;  
I'll live and revel here below,  
And swim in Seas of Pleasure:  
I'll banquet all my Senses here,  
And treat my Soul with Blisses;  
music and Wit shall feed my Ear,  
And Beauty give me kisses.   

V.  
heaven in thy Voice and Eyes thou hast,  
And when I hear thee chanting;  
I hear, I see, I smell, I taste,  
But there's one Sense still wanting.  
From the rare virtue of which Sense,  
All Senses have depending;  
Love did at first from that Commence  
A Pleasure without ending.   Isaac Blackwell.  

CEase, fruitless hopes, lest you convey my Heart to pi╌ti╌ful despair; put those false shapes of Love a╌way, and let Fru╌i╌tion be my prayer: For to my Mi╌sery I find, Love can be deaf, as well as blind; where interest rules a╌bove, there's little pleading in the Laws of Love.  

II.  
How strange a Vassal is her Fate,  
To Tyrant Duty for dull Gain;  
Love that's constrained oft turns to hate,  
And makes the Union but in vain:  
Yet Love is Mercenary made,  
And Marriage turns into a Trade;  
Where interest must express  
The measure of true Love and Happiness.   

III.  
Affection should be brave and free,  
And where it doubly pays its Charms;  
It gains more by Civility,  
Than all the glittering force of Arms.  
We still obey what is above,  
As Fortune and the power of Love;  
But equal in Command  
Do often struggle for the upper hand.   Isaac Blackwell.  

ALL o╌ther Bles╌sings are but Toys, to him that in his Sleep enjoys; who in his Slumber does receive something his wa╌king cannot give: The Joys are pu╌rer, for he spares the Crimes, Ex╌pen╌ces, and the Cares.  

II.  
Thus when Adonis got the ston,  
To Love the Boy still made his moan;  
Venus the Queen of Beauty came,  
And as he slept, she cooled his flamme:  
The Fancy charmed him as he lay,  
And Fancy brought the ston away:    

A. 2. voc.  
HAppy is the Country life, blessed with Content, good Health, and Ease; Free from factious Noise and Strife, we on╌ly Plot ourselves to please: Peace of Mind the Days delight, and Love our welcome Dream at Night.  

II.  
Hail green Fields and shady Woods,  
Hail Springs and Streams that still run pure;  
Nature's uncorrupted Goods,  
Where Virtue only is secure:  
Free from 'vice, here free from Care,  
Age is no pain, and Youth no snare.   Mr. James Hart.  

A. 2. voc.  
NOW every place fresh Pleasure yields, let all our Ap╌pe╌tites be free; let us en╌joy the verdant Fields, this is Dame Nature's Ju╌bi╌lee.  

II.  
With Garlands made of sweetest flowers,  
Our Temples bound we'l dance and sing;  
So blithly will we pass the Hours,  
As to promote the growing Spring.   

III.  
The Sylvan Gods, the Nymphs and Fawns,  
Shall to our Chorus join their Voice;  
The Woods, the Streams, and Hills, and Lawns,  
Loudly in echoes shall rejoice.   Mr. James Hart.  

CORIDON and PHILLIS, or the Cautious Lover. Almain.  
TO love and like, and not succeed, such Passions in the Mind do breed; that it depraves the no╌bler part, en╌sla╌ving of the Heart, oh sad Love! 'tis Love, fond Love, that does deceive the Mind, and nothing but Instinct can make him blind; who is thus lead by that un╌hap╌py Boy, like wisping Will out of the bet╌ter way, yet thinks he does not stray.  

II.  
Whose blind Intrigue when once obeyed,  
'tis like a Commonwealth, betrayed  
To the false Dictates of a Foe,  
Who like a Friend does show,  
Or like Jove.  
So Coridon a harmless loving Swain,  
Who willingly his Phillis would obtain;  
But durst not venture to disclose the smart,  
That Love, by an unlucky poisoned Dart,  
Had shot into his Heart.   Mr. William Gregory.  

Courant. Second Part.  
AT length in musing what to do, Love undertook to show the way to woe; in nothing else can he di╌rect or guide. When met, draw near with courtly place, kiss her soft Hand, ad╌mire her comely Face; die if thou canst, at last like Death appear, then kiss a╌gain and smile, and ne╌ver fear.  

II.  
Go Swain, says he, and trace the way,  
Where Phillis is accustomend to play  
Upon her Pipe, but would not be espied.  
He jealous of th' Advice received,  
Thought unkind Love had him once more deceived;  
But in despair not fearing Fortune's blast,  
designed to meet his Phillis at the last.   Mr. William Gregory.  

Saraband. Third Part.  
CO╌ri╌don met Phil╌lis fair close by a Ri╌ver side, walking up╌on the Bank for to see the Stream glide: O but fair Swain! she said, who e're dis╌co╌vers that we walk thus a╌lone, will conclude we are Lovers.  

II.  
She blushed, he smiling said, well met my dearest Dear,  
Thrice happy Coridon, thus to meet such Joys here:  
What harm can that procure, Love may be blamed;  
But if Truth once appear, sure it cannot be ashamed.   

III.  
If Coridon should prove a traitor in his Zeal,  
To make his Phillis fond, and her Passions should reveal:  
Unhappy she'd appear, more than all the Nymphs beside,  
To yield unto a Swain at the first time that she's tried.   

IV.  
Let not fair Phillis fear, false Thoughts dare enter  
Into this Breast of mine, where true Love has his Center;  
For could I suspect any false conclusion,  
I would first tell my Nymph, that my Ends were delusion.   Mr. William Gregory.  

Jigg. Fourth Part.  
THen we'l join hand in hand, and walk o'er the Down, make Chaplets of Ro╌ses our Heads to crown: The Ci╌ty may boast of her rich At╌tire, that's nothing to lo╌ving with true de╌sire.  

II.  
Let the Joys of the Court in pomp us excel,  
Our Rural Delights shall please us as well;  
No jealousy here shall disturb our Minds,  
While we sing and dance with our Kids and Hinds.   

III.  
When the World is turmoiled with trouble& care,  
The Rich and the Great may therein have share;  
But we in our Love from that shall be free,  
And none shall more happily live than we.   

IV.  
When thou with thy Pipe shalt good music make,  
Then we with our Feet will true Measures take;  
And thus will we spend the day in Delight,  
And be no less pleasant when it is night.   Mr. William Gregory.  

A SONG in PSYCHE. A. 2. voc.  
ALL joy to fair Psyche in this hap╌py place, and to our great Master who her shall embrace; may never his Love nor her Beau╌ty de╌cay, but be Chorus. warm as the Spring, and still fresh as the Day. No Mortals on Earth e╌ver wretched could Soft. prove, if still while they lived they'd be al╌ways in Love, if still while they lived they'd be always in Love.  

II.  
There's none without Love ever happy can be,  
Without it each Brute were as happy as we;  
The knowledge Men boast of does nothing but vex,  
And their wandering Reason their Minds do perplex.   

Chor. No Mortals on Earth ever wretched could prove,  
If still while they lived they'd be always in love.   

III.  
Love Sighs and his Tears are mixed with Delights,  
But were he still pestered with Cares& with Frights;  
Should a thousand more Troubles a Lover invade,  
By one happy moment they'd fully be paid.   

Chor. No Mortals on Earth ever wretched could prove,  
If still while they lived they'd be always in Love.   

IV.  
Then lose not a Moment, but in pleasure employ it,  
For a Moment once lost will always be so;  
Your Youth requires Love, let it fully enjoy it,  
And push on your Nature as far as 'twill go.   

Chor. No Mortals on Earth ever wretched could prove,  
If still while they lived they'd be always in Love.   Mr. Matthew Lock.  

HOW long d'ye mean to torture me, in Love's hot scorching flamme? Cloris, what time shall I get free, from Love's fan╌ta╌stick Dreams? Never that sad Infer╌nal sound, does dai╌ly reach mine Ear; and e╌ver racks that bleeding Wound, which for your sake, which for your sake I bear.  

II.  
That I do love, Cloris, you know,  
My Grief to you I tell;  
My over-fondness of you, shows  
That I have loved too well:  
And in requital of my Love,  
You blast me with a breath;  
The wounds you gave will fatal prove,  
Each frown pronounce, each frown pronouncing Death.   

III.  
It grieves my Heart to see you choose  
My Rival in my room;  
And unconcerned tell him the news,  
On me you've past your Doom.  
My injured Ghost when e're I die,  
Shall never let you rest;  
But hovering in the Air shall fly,  
And steal, and steal into your Breast.   

IV.  
Thus I torment myself, and doubt,  
That you unconstant are;  
You know true Love is ne're without  
Great Jealousies and Fears.  
Then pardon the distracted Thoughts,  
Of one you know is true;  
One Love has in subjection brought,  
And made a Slave, and made a Slave to you.   

V.  
If you have any pity left,  
Then show it now, and save  
Him who despairs of finding rest,  
And don't you dig my Grave:  
For if I die through your neglect,  
Pray writ this on my Tomb;  
My Judge being fair, I did expect  
A favourable, a favourable Doom.   

VI.  
And since you did my Woes procure,  
I'll try if Torments can  
Increase my flamme, or help to cure  
A Love-distracted Man.  
I'll find some sure, yet speedy way,  
To end my Misery;  
Too long my ruin I delay,  
And yet seem loth, and yet seem loth to die.   

VII.  
I'll place myself on Caucasus,  
And there I'll lend such Groans,  
Shall scar the damned Prometheus,  
With my sad frightful Tones.  
I'll make the Vultures quit their Prey,  
And feed upon my Breast;  
For through this means perhaps I may  
Find hopes of having, find hopes of having Rest.    

A SONG upon a Ground.  
SHE loves, and she con╌fes╌ses too, there's then at last no more to do; the hap╌py Work's en╌tire╌ly done, en╌ter the Town which thou hast won: The fruits of Conquest now, now, now begin, I╌o, Tri╌umph, en╌ter in. What's this, ye Gods! what can it be! remains there still an E╌ne╌my! Bold Honour stands up in the Gate, and would yet capi╌tu╌late. Have I o'ercome all re╌al Foes, and shall this phantom me oppose? Noi╌sy nothing stalking Shade, by what Witchcraft wert thou made, thou emp╌ty cause of so╌lid Harms? But I shall find out Counter Charms, thy Ai╌ry Devilship to remove, from this Cir╌cle here of Love: Sure I shall rid myself of thee, by the nights ob╌scu╌ri╌ty, and obscu╌rer se╌cre╌cy. Un╌like to ev'╌ry o╌ther wright, thou attempt'st not Men to affright, nor appear'st, nor appear'st, but in the Light.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

LU╌cin╌da by a se╌cret Art, unknown to all but her; which she has pra╌ctis'd on my Heart, has charmed, has charmed the Wan╌de╌rer: Enjoyment which did use t'a╌bate the vi╌gour of Love's heat, does now fresh Appetites create, the Plea╌sures to re╌peat.  

II.  
So fares it with the bide that's took,  
And into Bondage brought;  
At first his Prison how to brook,  
With difficulty's taught:  
But with kind tender usage bread,  
Grows pleased with his Abode;  
And with more Delicates is fed,  
Than e're he found abroad.    

Bess of Bedlam.  
FRom silent Shades, and the E╌li╌zium Groves, where sad de╌par╌ted Spi╌rits mourn; there Loves, from crystal Streams, and from that Coun╌try, where Jove crowns the Fields with Flowers all the year, poor senseless Bess, clothed in her Rags and Fol╌ly, is come to cure her Love╌sick Me╌lan╌cho╌ly: Bright Cyn╌thia kept her Re╌vels late, while Mab the Fairy-Queen did dance; and O╌be╌ron did sit in State, when Mars at Ve╌nus ran his Lance. In yon╌der Cow╌slip lies my Dear, entombed in li╌quid Gems of due; each day I'll wa╌ter it with a Tear, its fa╌ding Blossom to re╌new: For since my Love is dead, and all my Joys are gone; poor Bess for his sake a Gar╌land will make, my Mu╌sick shall be a Groan. I'll lay me down and die; with╌in some hollow three, the Rav'n and Cat, the Owl and Bat, shall war╌ble forth my E╌le╌gy. Did you not see my Love as he past by you? His two flaming Eyes, if he come nigh you, they will scorch up your Hearts. Ladies, be╌ware ye, lest he should dart a glance that may en╌snare ye. Hark! hark! I hear old Cha╌ron bawl, his Boat he will no lon╌ger stay; the Fu╌ries lash their Whips, and call, Come, come a╌way, come, come a╌way: Poor Bess will re╌turn to the place whence she came, since the World is so mad, she can hope for no Cure; for Love's grown a Bubble, a Shadow, a Name, which Fools do ad╌mire, and wise Men en╌dure. could and hungry am I grown, Am╌bro╌sia will I feed up╌on, drink Nectar still, and sing; who is content, does all Sorrow prevent: And Bess in her Straw, whilst free from the Law, in her Thoughts is as great, great as a King.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

SHE who my poor Heart pos╌ses╌ses, is of late so fic╌kle grown; she to ev'╌ry Fop that dresses, still is parting with her own: Once if a╌ny chance to name her, I all ravished do appear; now I blushy lest they defame her, with some truth I dare not hear.  

II.  
While my Doubts are yet prevailing,  
If she but the thing deny;  
Soon she makes me leave my Railing,  
And I give my Tongue the lie:  
You whose skill in Love is greater,  
Say what Charms compels my Fate;  
Say what makes me love her better,  
Whom I fear I ought to hate.   Mr. Henry Purcell.  

COme dear Com╌pa╌nions of th' Ar╌ca╌dian Fields, let us combine to countermine the Plots, which Female con╌ver╌sa╌tion yields. We'l break their Fetters from their Charms, be free, and re╌gain Man his long-lost Li╌ber╌ty.  

II.  
Beauty your Empire now is in its wain,  
We'l never more  
Your Shrines adore,  
Since you delight t' abosciate with disdain:  
Had you been kind, we would have worshipped still,  
But your chief Glory was your Slaves to kill.   

III.  
So lawful Princes when they Tyrants prove,  
Themselves abuse,  
And Power lose,  
Their strength depending on their Subjects love:  
For Love obliges Duty more than Fear,  
All hate that Government that's too severe.    

A SONG to a Ground.  The words by John Turner Esq 
LET each gallant Heart, untouched with Love's Dart, prepare for his se╌cret Alarms; that slug╌gish Repose wherein now thou art, affords far less nu╌me╌rous Charms: For the Warfare of Love yields a thousand times more Sweets and Delights, than your dull, your dull Peace be╌fore; than your dull, your dull, dull Peace before. Long Torment 'tis sure we must calm╌ly en╌dure, be╌fore the dear Pri●e we ob╌tain; yet still the hard Toil is part of the Cure, and such Pleasures we find in our Pain: That the warfare of Love yields a thousand times more blissful Delights, than your dull, your dull Peace before; than your dull, your dull, dull Peace be╌fore.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

A. 2. voc.  
DAmon, turn thine Eyes on me, gaze not so on cer╌tain Ru╌ine; but be warned by my undoing, 'tis an angels Face you see. That bright thing so like a Woman, is in╌deed a fla╌ming Creature; which de╌scen╌ded to un╌do Man, but partakes not of his Nature; which de╌scen╌ded to un╌do Man, but partakes not of his Nature.  Mr. William Turner.  

OH Love! how just and how se╌vere thy mighty Godhead is? Philo╌clea now sheds ma╌ny a Tear, who did thy Laws despise: Successless Love, alas! requires that Tribute from her Eyes; and she who ral╌lied o╌thers Fires, wrapped in her own, now dies. Up╌on a Bed of sweetest flowers, careless she lies her down; in Sighs she spends the te╌dious Hours, in Tears her Eyes does drown: Pensive she lies fair as the Queen, soft as the God of Love; to whom at length such Vows she makes, as Mars himself would move.  

II.  
Spare, O spare a tender Maid,  
Who never knew thy Power;  
till by a faithless Swain betrayed,  
In vain she did Adore:  
increase these Flames, that soon they may  
This wretched Frame consume;  
And not to torment by delay,  
But quickly seal my Doom.   

III.  
Or if for past Offences,  
Must linger out my days  
In Torments constant, till I die,  
The Murderer I'll praise:  
Deaf to my Vows, false to his own,  
perjured although he be;  
Yet patiently I still submit,  
To suffer Heaven and thee.   Mr. Francis Forcer.  

A. 2. voc.  
YOU I love by all that's true, more than all things here below; with a Pas╌sion far more great, than e're Creature lo╌ved yet: And yet still you cry, forbear, love no more, or love not here.  

II.  
Bid the Miser leave his Ore,  
Bid the Wretched sigh no more;  
Bid the Old be young again,  
Bid the Nun not think of Man:  
Sylvia, this when you can do,  
Bid me then not think of you.   

III.  
Love's not a thing of Choice, but Fate,  
That makes me love, that makes you hate:  
Sylvia then do what you will,  
Ease or cure, torment or kill;  
Be kind or cruel, false or true,  
Love I must, and none but you.   Mr. Charles tailor.  

removed from Noise and Tu╌mults of the Town, yet to its Neighbourhood allied; the Mu╌ses here╌to╌fore of famed Renown, choose in the Country to re╌side: For Ci╌ties are to Arts a friend, and ev'╌ry Science there exceeds; but yet a╌las! too oft we find, the richest soil overgrown with Weeds. Wisely you therefore have made this Qui╌et, and hap╌py Retreat; for 'vice can╌not here invade, since this is fair Virtue's seat: Here you may still improve in every kind of skill, secure from the fol╌lies of Love, and all the oc╌ca╌sions of Ill. Happy Nymphs, whose ear╌ly Age, Ver╌tue does so well en╌gage; virtue's the most plea╌sant way, for her Joys have no Al╌lay: No Remorse, no Discontent, can disturb the In╌no╌cent. But here you sit, and here you sing, and make here perpetual Spring; hap╌py as the Birds in May, because as in╌no╌cent as they. The Ci╌ty may boast of her Beauties, so may the Court, but give me the Nymph that to neither does much re╌sort; the one and the o╌ther are dan╌ge╌rous Rocks for to harm us, but here we may sport, and they can neither hurt nor alarm us.  Mr. Francis Forcer.  

SInce o╌ther Beauties charm your Heart, farewell in╌con╌stant Swain; let her that shares the greater part, en╌joy this happy Plain: When all my future Joys are crossed, I'll mourn in some dark Grove; not that my Beauty I have lost, but for my Da╌mon's love.  

II.  
The Willow-Green shall crown my Head,  
And wrap my Body round;  
I'll gather Leaves to make my Bed  
Upon the mossy Ground:  
To every Spring and echoing Grove,  
My mournful Song shall be,  
Beauty was thrown away( for Love,)  
On vain Inconstancy.    

A. 2. voc.  
PRo╌phane╌ly I swore by the Pow╌ers Di╌vine, that Beau╌ty no more should my Pleasures con╌fine; but a╌las! by surprise, my Claris╌sa's bright Eyes has shot such a Dart, that has woun╌ded my Heart: In revenge now I find I am left and un╌done, and curse the past Fate I endeavoured to shun.  

II.  
But Love, like the Brave, no sooner subdued  
His amorous Slave, but in pity renewed  
Such excesses of Joy,  
My Fears to destroy:  
Now in Freedom I reign,  
All proud of my Pain;  
Such Raptures of Bliss my Senses persuade,  
'tis in love, 'tis in love, our Pleasures ne're fade.   Mr. Charles tailor.  

A DIALOGUE between Daphney and amyntas.  Daphney. 
SO pale A╌min╌tas does thy Looks appear, as if thy Doom drew near; whence do thy Sorrows flow?  amyntas. 
From Discontent, the plague of powers below; I'm weary of this World, and would a╌no╌ther know.  Daph. 
Can this poor World find no relief, to cure thy melancholy Grief? nor tempting hopes of Happiness draw near, that may contain thy Wishes here?  Amin. 
The World in all its Pomp and State, is but a Lot╌te╌ry of Fate, where Fortune blindly does bestow, Favours on him to whom she ne're did owe; where foundlings me╌rit╌less as wise, enjoy the prise, and Fate her E╌qui╌ty denies.  Daph. 
Fortune a Cheat unto our Hopes, is sent to steal a╌way the Blessing of Content, de╌pen╌ding on our Fraud, re╌news our Care, and brings us to de╌spair;  Amin. 
But few re╌pine at Fate, who happy are.  Daph. 
Alas poor Swain! those who you daily see, that seem far happier than thee, more Troubles undergo, in all they think or do, and to the World less happy are than we.  Amin. 
Then to be hap╌py, is to be content,  Daph. 
'twas so by heaven meant:  Amin. 
But I am troubled.  Daph. 
No, it must not be, I'll charm a╌way thy Grief with Har╌mo╌ny, all Trouble must be banished hence:  Amin. 
Then Daphney try thy In╌flu╌ence.  CHORUS. Daphne and amyntas. 
LET Mu╌sick, let Mu╌sick, let Mu╌sick be our Charm, to keep the Mind from LET Mu╌sick, let Mu╌sick, let Mu╌sick be our Charm, to keep the Mind from harm; let helpless Trouble live a╌lone, let Envy make her moan; harm; let helpless Trouble live a╌lone, let En╌vy make her moan; let helpless Trouble live a╌lone, let En╌vy, let En╌vy make her moan, while let helpless Trouble live a╌lone, let En╌vy make her moan, while all those Blessings we pursue, still wait on me and you, and fall, and fall, as on our all those Blessings we pursue, still wait on me and you, and fall, and fall, as on our Flocks, and fall as on our Flocks the Morning due. Flocks, and fall as on our Flocks the Morning due.  Isaac Blackwell.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
WHilst our Flocks feed up╌on the Plains, let us re╌tire to Hilst our Flocks feed up╌on the Plains, let us re╌tire to ver╌dent Groves; and to each other in gen╌tle Strains, chant o'er the verdant Groves, and to each o╌ther in gen╌tle Strains, chant o'er the Story Sto╌ry of our Love. There heaven will di╌spence such mystic Influence upon of our Love. There heaven will dispense such mystic Influence up╌on thy on thy Lyre, as shall in╌spire all the Psaphonick choir, to Lyre, as shall in╌spire all the Psaphonick choir, all the Psaphonick sing how we shall here thus live, thus love E╌ter╌nal╌ly. choir, to sing how we shall here thus live, thus love E╌ter╌nal╌ly.  

II.  
There the Winds shall in Consort blow,  
And murmur on the Leaves a Bass,  
Whilst the glad Druids in Dance below,  
Singing shall sanctify the place:  
There each hollow three  
An Organ-Pipe shall be,  
And from their Womb  
Such sounds shall come,  
As to persuade the World, that Oaks may be  
Enchanted with our softer Harmony.   Mr. Ja. Hartl  

A. 2. voc.  
IRis on the Bank of Thames, with a sigh and weeping Eyes, said to love╌ly Ce╌li╌mene, Let no Man your Heart surprise, Men are all made up of Lies.  

II.  
Though a thousand times they swear,  
And as many Vows repeat,  
All they say is common Air,  
All they promise but Deceit,  
None were ever constant yet.   

III.  
Wisely then preserve your Heart  
From such Tyranny of Fate,  
Which only then can act its part,  
When Love has its return of hate,  
And your Repentance comes too late.   Tho. Tudway.  

PHil╌lis in your absence, I sad and thoughtful spend the day; but so soon as you are nigh, Joy transports me, Joy transports me, and I'm gay. Something for you still I find, so sub╌mis╌sive, and so kind, that I know not what 'twill prove; but a rash a╌spi╌ring Swain, whom re╌spect did not re╌strain, would alrea╌dy call it Love.  Tho. Tudway.  

A. 2. voc.  
SEE what a Con╌quest Love has made! beneath the Myrtle's a╌mo╌rous Shade the char╌ming fair Co╌rin╌na lies, all mel╌ting in Desire, quen●hing in Tears those fla╌ming Eyes that set the World on fire.  

II  
What cannot Te●r● and Beauty do?  
The Youth b● chance stood by, and knew  
For whom those crystal Streams did flow;  
And though he ne're before  
To her Eyes brightest Rays did bow,  
Weeps to, and does Adore.   

III.  
So when the Heav'ns serene and clear,  
Gilded with gaudy Light appear,  
Each craggy Rock and every ston  
Their native Rigour keep,  
But when in Rain the Clouds fall down,  
The hardest Marbles weep.   Tho. Tudway.  

AF╌ter the fiercest pangs of hot De╌sire, between Panthe╌a's ri╌sing Breasts, his ben╌ded Head Phi╌lan╌der rests; though vanquished, yet un╌know╌ing to re╌tire, close hugs the Charmer, and a╌sham'd to yield, tho' he has lost the Day, still keeps the Field.  

II.  
When with a sigh the fair Panthea said,  
What pity 'tis, ye Gods! that all  
The bravest warriors soonest fall!  
Then with a kiss she gently raised his Head,  
armed him again for Fight, for nobly she  
More loved the combat than the Victory.   

III.  
Then more enraged for being beat before,  
With all his strength he does prepare  
More fiercely to renew the War,  
Nor ceases till the noble prise he bore;  
even her such wondrous Courage did surprise,  
She hugs the Dart that wounded her, and dyes.   Tho. Tudway.  

WHen Stre╌phon found his Pas╌sion vain, thus to the Nymph he did complain; Re╌lent╌less Cae╌lia! dost thou still de╌light in Scorn, and love to kill? Ah, cru╌el Beauty! canst thou see a Swain that dyes, that dyes for thee, and yet not pi╌ty, pi╌ty me, and yet not pi╌ty, pi╌ty me.  

II.  
See how the Blood springs from each Vein;  
The sad effects of your Disdain;  
canst thou behold this Purple Flood,  
And not  shed Tears when I  shed Blood?  
Now, now at last more kind appear,  
Grim Death I do not, do not fear;  
But oh! your Charms I cannot bear:  
But oh! &c.   Henry Purcell.  

WHen Damon saw fair Sylvia's Face, blessed with a heavenly smiling Grace, with si╌lent fear enerv'd he stood, and on╌ly sighed beneath the neighbouring Wood: I've seen my ruin, 'tis too late, Beauty's transcendent o'er my Fate. To the echoes he sighed with a Ge╌nius so mo╌ving, so fainting, so dy╌ing, so zea╌lou╌sly loving, that the Wood-Nymphs and Sylvans with pi╌ty replied, Such love, hap╌py Damon, can ne're be de╌ny'd.  

encouraged, he the Nymph implores,  
With Fruits and flowers her power adores;  
His fearful Tongue scarce Love implies,  
But leaves it to the empiric of his Eyes:  
Yet oft a Sigh or blushy do show  
What he would, would not have her know.  
When alone he repaired to the murmuring Fountains  
Repeating his Cares to the sigh-giving Mountains,  
All the Wood-Nymphs and Sylvans with pity replied,  
Such Love, happy Damon, can ne're be denied.   Isaac Blackwell.  

THough Sylvia loved, too well she knew with Pride the Vict'ry to pursue, shrouding her Smiles, displayed her Charms, and kept the Slave beneath her conq'ring Arms; yet oft a╌lone she sighed and cried, and cursed the Bones of Female Pride. Then she vowed with a blushy, from thy Death I'll reprieve thee, my Beau╌ty too fa╌tal no longer shall grieve thee; all my Scorn and Dis╌dain shall in Triumph be lead, by Smiles that succeed o'er the frowns that are fled.  

Thus blessed beneath cool Myrtles, they  
youths flowery Vernal pass away;  
And Gods of Love renew their Fires,  
And point their Darts at their inflamed Desires:  
The flowers spring up where Sylvia moves,  
And Birds still serenade the Groves.  
So may Sylvia live long, and so happy be ever,  
The Sunshine of Love let not jealousy sever;  
When all hate, fear,& scorn, shall in triumph be lead,  
By smiles that succeed o'er the frowns that are fled.   Isaac Blackwell.  

Adam's Sleep.  
SLeep, Adam, sleep, and take thy rest, let no sad thoughts possess thy Breast; but when thou wak'st, look up, and see what thy Cre╌a╌tor hath done for thee: A Creature from thy Side is ta'en, who till thou wake, she wants a Name; Flesh of thy Flesh, Bone of thy Bone, a Mate most fit for thee a╌lone. Wake, Adam, wake, to embrace thy Bride, who is newly risen from thy Side; but in the midst of thy Delights, beware, lest her En╌tice╌ments prove thy Snare.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

FAin would I Clo╌ris e're I die, bequeath you such a Le╌ga╌cy, that you might say when I am gone None hath the like: My Heart alone were the best Gift I could bestow, but that's al╌rea╌dy yours you know. So that till you my Heart re╌sign, or fill with yours the place of mine, and by that Grace my Store re╌new, I shall have nought worth giving you; whose Breast has all the Wealth I have, save a faint Carcase and a Grave: But had I as many Hearts as Hands, as many Lives as Love has Fears, as ma╌ny Lives as Years have Hours, they should be all and on╌ly yours.  Dr. John Blow.  

TELL my Strephon that I die, let Ec╌cho's to each o╌ther tell; till the mournful Accents fly to Strephon's Ear, and all is well: But gently break the fa╌tal Truth, and swee╌ten ev'╌ry sad╌der Sound; for Strephon such a ten╌der Youth, the gentlest word too deep will wound. No, Fountains echoes all be dumb; for should I cost my Swain a Tear, I should re╌pent me in the Tomb, and grieve I bought my Rest so dear.  Dr. John Blow.  

A. 2. voc.  
AMin╌tor on a Ri╌ver side, ra╌sing a Spring-tide from his Eyes; his Passion could no lon╌ger hid, but un╌to heaven he cast his cries: His Voice so well expressed his Grief, 'twas Sin to wish him a Relief; he sighed and sung in a soft air, Phil╌lis is cru╌el, Phil╌lis is cru╌el, false, and fair.  

II.  
echo confined to a Grove,  
Being unable to return,  
These fatal words, in hopeless Love,  
I burn, repeated thrice I burn:  
Birds in his Grief did bear a part,  
Whilst Sighs kept soft Time in his Heart;  
He mourning, sung in a soft air,  
Phillis is cruel, false, and fair.   

III.  
Whilst in this Agony he lay,  
A Tear did steal from either Eye,  
Down his pale Cheeks, which did betray,  
Amintor waited but to die.  
Whilst Death sate heavy on his Eyes,  
And he looked like Love's sacrifice;  
He dying, sung in a soft air,  
Phillis is cruel, false, and fair.   Dr. John Blow.  

A SONG upon the Court-Game BASSET.  
LET E╌qui╌page and Dress despair, since Bas╌set is come in; there's no╌thing can en╌gage the Fair, but Mo╌ney and more╌in. Is a╌ny Countess in distress, she flies not to the Beau; 'tis Coney on╌ly can re╌dress her Grief with a Rou╌leau.  

II.  
By this bewitching Game betrayed,  
Poor Love is bought and sold;  
And that which should be a free Trade,  
Is all engrossed by Gold:  
even sense is brought into disgrace,  
Where Company is met;  
It silent stands, or leaves the place,  
While all the Talk's Basset.   Dr. John Blow  

WHY does the Morn' in Blush╌es rise, tell me O God of Day? Cla╌ro╌na, oh! Cla╌ro╌na's Eyes, out╌shine the brightest Rays. 'tis true, 'tis true, she's far more bright, dim ta╌per God be gone, and hid thy baffled Beams in Night, let her rule Day a╌lone.  

II.  
If Anchorite-like, full twenty Years  
On Earth's could Bed I'd lain,  
And wooed the Gods with Fasts and prayers,  
Celestial Crowns to gain:  
Yet after all, could you but love,  
No more would I pursue  
The endless search of Joys above,  
But find out heaven in you.   Dr. John Blow.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
THink not, my Soul's de╌light and grief, because my Sorrows shunned Relief, that therefore I had none at all, or short, or Su╌per╌fi╌cial. Chorus. Shal╌low Rills the Peb╌bles chide, Deeps a╌way in si╌lence glide; Shal╌low Rills the Peb╌bles chide, Deeps a╌way in si╌lence shal╌low Rills the Peb╌bles chide, Deeps a╌way in si╌lence glide. glide, Deeps a╌way in si╌lence glide, Deeps a╌way in si╌lence glide. Spices and Gums in ruff Disguise, may court in vain regardless Eyes; till bruised and burnt, we then be╌gin to own that Sweet's e╌ver lodged with╌in.  Chorus. 
Heart, when bro╌ken, sure they'l see, Love and Grief stream forth from thee; Heart, when bro╌ken, sure they'l see, Love and Grief stream forth from thee; Heart, when Heart, when bro╌ken, sure they'l see, Love and Grief stream forth from thee. bro╌ken, sure they'l see, Love and Grief, Love and Grief stream forth from thee. Yet then fair In╌fi╌del, if thou be╌lieve, that Love a╌lone did make me grieve; and on╌ly say, Thou sor╌ry art that thou hadst mine, not I thy Heart.  Chorus. 
That a just Re╌ward shall be for Love, Grief and Death for thee; that a just Reward That a just Reward shall be for Love, for Love, Grief and Death for thee; that a just Reward shall shall be for Love, Grief and Death for thee. be for Love; Grief and Death for thee.  James Hart.  

RAsh╌ly I swore I would dis╌own your Al╌tars and your power; all your vain Idols Love thrown down, and ne╌ver Worship more: As much resolved I would for╌get Lu╌cin╌da's guil╌ded Charms; her Shape, her Beauty, and her Wit, which tempt me to her Arms.  

II.  
But vain are our weak Vows, when Love  
Does feed the active Fire;  
And treacherous Sighs his Agents prove,  
To make it blaze the higher:  
In vain Preservatives are used  
To any other part,  
When the Infection has diffused  
Its self unto the Heart.   Henry Purcell.  

RE╌tir'd from Mor╌tals sight the pen╌sive Da╌mon lay; he blessed the dis╌con╌ten╌ted Night, and cursed the smi╌ling Day: The ten╌der sharers of his Pain, his Flock, no lon╌ger graze; but sad╌ly fixed a╌round the Swain, like si╌lent Mourners gaze.  

II.  
He heard the music of the Wood,  
And with a sigh, replied;  
He saw the Fish sport in the Flood,  
And wept a deeper Tide:  
In vain the Summer's Bloom came on,  
For still the drooping Swain  
Like Autumn Winds was heard to groan,  
Out-wept the Winter's Rain.   

III.  
Some Ease( said he) some respite give;  
Why, mighty powers! ah! why  
Am I too much distressed to live,  
And yet forbid to die!  
Such Accents from the Shepherd flew,  
Whilst on the Ground he lay;  
At last so deep a Sigh he drew,  
As bore his Life away.   Henry Purcell.  

A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
GO, perjured Man, and if thou e're re╌turn; go, per╌jur'd Man, and if thou e're GO perjured Man, and if thou e're re╌turn; go, perjured re╌turn, re╌turn to see the small re╌main╌der of my Urn; Man, and if thou e're re╌turn, and if thou e're re╌turn to and if thou e're re╌turn, re╌turn, re╌turn to see the small remainder of my Urn; and if thou e're re╌turn, re╌turn, see, to see the small re╌main╌der of my Urn. When thou shalt to see, to see the small re╌main╌der of my Urn. When thou shalt laugh, shalt laugh at my Re╌li╌gious Dust, and ask where's now, laugh, shalt laugh at my Re╌li╌gious Dust, and ask where's now the where's now the co╌lour, form, and trust of Woman's Beauty? And perco╌lour, form, and trust of Woman's Beauty? And perhaps with rude hands, with rude 'haps with rude, with rude hands, perhaps with rude hands rifle the flowers which the Virgins strewed. hands, and perhaps with rude hands rifle the flowers which the Virgins strewed. Know I've prayed to Know I've prayed to Pi╌ty, that the Wind may blow my Ashes up; Pity, that the Wind may blow my A╌shes up; know I've prayed to know I've prayed to Pity, that the Wind may blow my Ashes up, Pi╌ty, that the Wind may blow my A╌shes up, and strike thee Blind; that the may blow my A╌shes up, and strike thee Blind. Wind may blow my A╌shes up, and strike thee Blind.  Dr. John Blow.  

A DIALOGUE betwixt a Shepherd and Shepherdess, sung in the Play of the Duke of Guise. A. 2. voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
TELL me Thirsis, tell your Anguish, why you Sigh, and why you Languish; when the Nymph whom you Adore, grants the Blessing of Pos╌ses╌sing, what can Love and I do more? what can Love, what can Love and I do more?  Shepherd. 
Think it's Love beyond all measure, makes me faint a╌way with Pleasure; strength of Cordial may destroy, and the Blessing of Possessing kills me with excess of Joy.  Shepherdess. 
Thirsis, how can I be╌lieve you? but confess, and I'll forgive you; Men are false, and so are you; never Nature framed a Creature to enjoy, and yet be true; never Nature framed a Soft. Creature to en╌joy, and yet be true; to enjoy, and yet be true, and yet be true.  Shepherd. 
Mine's a flamme beyond expressing, still pos╌ses╌sing, still de╌si╌ers, fit for Love's Imperial Crown; e╌ver shi╌ning, and re╌si╌ning, still the more 'tis melted down.  Chorus together. 
Mine's a flamme beyond expressing, still pos╌ses╌sing, still de╌sires, fit for Love's Im╌pe╌rial Mine's a flamme beyond expressing, still pos╌ses╌still desires, fit for Love's Im╌pe╌rial Crown; e╌ver shining, and re╌fi╌ning, still the more 'tis mel╌ted down. Crown; e╌ver shining, and re╌fi╌ning, still the more 'tis, still the more 'tis melted down.  Capt. Pack.  

Hero's Complaint to Leander. In Recitative music.  
NOR comest thou yet, my slothful Love! nor yet Le╌an╌der! Oh my Lean╌der! canst thou for╌get thy He╌ro? Le╌an╌der, why dost thou stay, who holds thee? Cruel! what hath be╌got de╌lay? Too soon a╌las! the Rosey╌sin╌ger'd Morn' will chase the darksome Night. Ah me! I burn and die in this my languishing Desires. See! see! the Taper wasts in his own Fires, like me; and will be spent before thou come. Make hast then my Le╌an╌der, prithee come. Behold the Winds and Seas deaf and enraged; my Imprecations have in part assuaged their Fu╌ries past; but thou more deaf than they, more merciless, torments me with delay. If far from hence, upon thy Native shore, such high delight thou tak'st, why didst thou more incite my hot De╌sires with faithless Lines, flattering me with Promise, That when the Winds became less high, and Shores had some repose, if I did but the friendly Torch expose to be thy guide, thou wouldst not fail to come? The Shores have Peace, the Winds and Seas are dumb, thy He╌ro here attends thee, and the Light invades the horror of the sable Night; come quickly then, and in these Arms appear, that have been oft thy chiefest Calm, thy sphere. Wretch that I am! 'tis so, you Gods! 'tis so! whilst here I vent to heaven and Seas my woe, he at A╌by╌dos in a new╌er flamme, forgets that e're he heard poor Hero's name. Ah! lighter than Blossoms, or the fleeting Air that sheds them; How! O how canst thou repair thy broken Faith! Is this the dear respect thou bearest to Oaths and Vows, thus to neg╌lect both Ci╌the╌re╌a and her Nun! Is this th'in╌vi╌o╌la╌ble Band of Hy╌men! This that knot, before the sacred Al╌tar made of Sea-born Venus! Heav'ns lend your aid, and arm yourselves in Thunder! Oh! but stay, what vain Fears transports thee, He╌ro, away with jealous Fu╌ry? Le╌an╌der's thine, thou his; and the poor youth at home lamenting is the wa╌ry Eyes of his old Parents; now steals from them a╌pace un╌to the shore, now with ha╌sty hand doth sling his Robes from him, and e╌ven now bold Boy attempts to swim, parting the swelling Waves with ivory Arms, born up alone by Love's all╌powerful Charms. You gentler peaceful Winds, if e╌ver Love had power in you, if e╌ver you did prove least spark of Cupid's flamme, for pi╌ty's sake with softer Gales more smooth and ea╌sie make the troubled Flood un╌to my Soul's delight. You showers, you Storms and Tempests black as Night, retire your Fu╌ry, till my Love appear, and bless these shores in safety, and I here with╌in these Arms en╌fold my on╌ly Treasure; then all in Rage and Horror sand at plea╌sure the fro╌thy Billows high as heaven, that he may here be e╌ver forced to dwell with me. But hark! O wonder! what sudden Storm is this? Seas menace heaven, and the Winds do hiss, in scorn of this my just Re╌quest. Re╌tire, re╌tire, my too too venturous Love, re╌tire, tempt not the an╌gry Seas. Ah me! ah me! the Light, the Light's blown out! O Gods! O dead╌ly Night! Neptune, Ae╌o╌lus, ye powerful De╌i╌ties, spare, O spare my Jew╌el! pi╌ty the Cries and Tears of wretched He╌ro! 'tis Le╌an╌der trusts you with his Love and Life, fair Le╌an╌der, Beau╌ty of these shores. See! see the bash╌ful Morn, for sor╌row of my sad Laments, hath torn through cloudy Night a passage to my Aid, and here beneath amid the horrid Shade, by her faint Light, something methinks I see re╌sem╌bling my Soul's Joy. Wo's me! 'tis he! drowned by th'im╌pe╌tuous Flood. O dismal Hour! cursed be these Seas, these shores, this Light, this tower! In spite of Fates, dear Love, to thee I come, Le╌an╌der's Bo╌som shall be Hero's Tomb.  Mr. Nic. Lannier. 
FINIS.   

music Books printed for John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple-Church.  
CAnticum Sacra, Hymns in Latin for two and three Voices to the Organ, composed by Mr. R. Dearing, in four Books in Folio. Price stitched 3 s. 6 d.  
Canticum Sacra, the second Set of Divine Hymns and Anthems, some in Latin and some in English for two Voices to the Organ, composed by several eminent English Masters in three Books in Folio. Price stitched 4 s.  
Hymns or Mottets for two Voices to the Organ; composed by Mr. Walter Porter, some time one of the Gentlemen of His Majesties chapel. The price 2 s. 6. d.  
The Psalms of David, and other Sacred Hymns, according to the Common Tunes sung in Parish Churches, composed in four Parts: Printed in Folio. Price 3 s.  
The Psalms in Metre, as they are sung in all Parish Churches, with the proper Tune to every Psalm; composed in three Parts, viz. Cantus, Medius, and Bassus, and printed in a small Volume convenient for all such as sing those Tunes musically, to carry in their Pockets to Church. The price bound 3 s.  
A brief Introduction to the Skill of music, both Vocal and Instrumental, by J. Playford: Printed in Octavo. The price bound 2 s. 6 d.  
The Musical Companion, containing variety of Catches and Rounds of three and four Parts; and also several choice Songs, airs, and Dialogues, of two, three, and four Parts, in one Volume in Quarto. The price bound 3 s. 6 d.  
The Treasury of music, containing three several Volumes of Select Songs, airs, and Dialogues for one Voice to the Theorbo-Lute or Bass-Viol; composed by Mr. Henry Laws, and other eminent Masters: In Folio. The price bound 10 s.  
New Choice airs, Songs, and Dialogues, to sing to the Theorbo-Lute or Bass-Viol.  
musics Recreation on the Lyra-Viol, containing variety of new airs, Tunes, and Lessons. The price stitched 2 s.  
The Dancing-Master, or plain and easy Rules to dance Country Dances, with the proper Tunes to each Dance to play on the Treble-Violin. The price bound 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Handmaid, containing new choice Lessons for the Virginals and Harpsichord, newly Reprinted with Additions of plain and easy Rules for Beginners to play from the Book, all engraven on Copper Plates. The price 2 s. 6 d.  
The Pleasant Companion, containing new and pleasant airs and Tunes for the Flagelet, with plain Instructions for Learners. The price bound 1 s. 6 d.  
Apollo's Banquet, a Book for the Treble-Violin, containing variety of new airs, and Theater-Tunes and embracings; to which is added, the proper Tunes to the French Dances, as they are in use at Court and Dancing-Schools: All which Tunes may be performed upon the Recorder or Flute. The price 1 s. 6 d.  
The Delightful Companion, a new Book of Lessons and Instructions for the Recorder or Flute. Price 1s. 6d.  
A Sheet of plain Rules and Directions for Composing music in Parts, by Mr. John Birchenshaw. Price 6d.  
The best ruled Paper for music, and Books ready Bound of all sizes.  
Melothesia, containing Lessons for the Harpsichord and Organ, with Rules and Directions for playing upon a continued Bass on the Organ; by Mr. Matthew Lock: And sold by J. Carr at the Middle-Temple-Gate. Price 2 s. 6 d.   

Other BOOKS sold at the same place.  
THE History of the most unfortunate Prince King Edward the Second, with Political Observations on Him and his unhappy Favourites Gaveston and Spencer; written by the Right Honourable Henry Lord Viscount Faulkland. Price bound 1 s.  
England's Black Tribunal, set forth in the trial of King Charles the First, by a pretended High-Court of Justice, Jan. 30. 1648. with his Speech on the Scaffold; together with the Dying-Speeches of the Nobility and Gentry who were Inhumanly murdered for their Loyalty, viz. The Earl of Strafford, Dr. Laud Archbishop of Canterbury, Duke Hamilton, Earl of Holland, Lord Capel, Earl of derby, marquis of Montross, Sir Henry hid, Sir H. Slingsby, colonel Penruddock, colonel Gerrard, colonel Andrews, Dr. Hewet, and others. The price bound 2 s.  
Wit and Mirth, an Antidote against Melancholy, compounded of new ingenious Poems, witty Ballads, and new and pleasant Songs and Catches; newly Reprinted with several Additions. Price bound 1s. 6d.  
A Second Part to the Antidote against Melancholy, containing merry Tales, witty Jests and Bulls. Price bound 1 s.   

CHOICE airs and SONGS TO SING TO THE Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol: BEING Most of the Newest airs and Songs sung at COURT, And at the public theaters.  
Composed by several Gentlemen of His Majesty's music, and others.  
THE FIFTH BOOK.  
 
LONDON, Printed by J. Playford Junior, and are sold by John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple Church; and John Carr, at his Shop at the Middle-Temple Gate, 1684.   

TO ALL LOVERS and UNDERSTANDERS OF music.  
GENTLEMEN,  
THIS Fifth Book of New Songs and airs had come sooner( by three Months) to your hands, but the last dreadful Frost put an Embargo upon the Press for more than ten Weeks; and, to say the truth, there was a great unwillingness in me to undertake the pains of publishing any more Collections of this nature: But at the request of Friends, and especially Mr. Carr, who assisted me in procuring some of these Songs from the Authors, I was prevailed with: Yet indeed the greatest Motive was, to prevent my Friends and Country-men from being cheated with such false Ware as is daily published by ignorant and mercenary persons, who put Musical Notes over their Songs, but neither minding Time nor right places, turn Harmony into Discord: Such Publications being a Scandal and Abuse to the Science of music, and all Ingenious Artists and Professors thereof. This I conceive I was bound to let my Reader understand; and that in what hitherto I have made public of this nature, my pains and care has ever been not only to procure perfect Copies, but also to see them true and well printed: But now I find my Age, and the Infirmities of Nature, will not allow me the strength to undergo my former Labours again, I shall leave it to two young Men, my own Son, and Mr. Carr's Son, who is one of His Majesty's music, and an ingenious person, whom you may rely upon, that what they publish of this nature, shall be carefully corrected and well done, myself engaging to be assisting to them in the overseeing the Press for the future, that what Songs they make public be good and true music, both for the credit of the Authors, and to the content and satisfaction of the Buyers; which that they may never be otherwise, is the desire of,  
GENTLEMEN, Your most faithful Servant, JOHN PLAYFORD.   

A Table of the SONGS contained in this Book.  

A  
A Sweet resemblance of Heaven, page. 23  
All she does and says I weigh page. 24  
Ah Jenny gin your Eyn do kill page. 25  
A Wife I do hate, for either she's false page. 38  
At Sylvia's feet young Strephon lay page. 45  
A thousand several ways I tried page. 52  
Alexis, dear Alexis, lovely Boy page. 60   

B  
Beneath a dark and melancholy Grove page. 2  
By shady Woods and purling Streams page. 15  
Beware poor Shepherds, all beware page. 56   

C  
Celia, forgive me my Passion page. 16  
Cease, lovely Strephon, cease to charm page. 18  
Cloris, when you disperse your influence page. 39   

F  
Fair Celia too fond contemns those page. 40   

H  
Happy the time when free from Love page. 7  
He himself courts his own ruin page. 14  
Hark how Noll and Bradshaw's heads page. 33  
How happy's that Mortal page. 50  
He that is resolved to wed page. 51   

I  
In Cloris all soft Charms agree page. 4  
In the Shades upon the Grass page. 9  
I liked, but never loved before page. 14   

L  
Long had Damon been admired page. 12  
Laurinda who did Love disdain page. 29  
Like a Dog with a Bottle page. 30  
Let the Ambitious soar high page. 31  
Let business no longer usurp your high mind page. 42  
Long was the day e're Alexis my Lover page. 43  
Like Quires of Angels, page. 46  
Let us kind Lesbia give away page. 54   

M  
May the Ambitious pleasure find page. 17   

O  
O Quench these Flames page. 6   

P  
Pretty Florinel no Tongue can ever tell page. 8  
Philander and echo: A Dialogue. page. 57   

S  
See, see how pleasantly she lies page. 32   

T  
Tell me no more of Flames in Love page. 5  
Though the Pride of my Passion page. 10  
Though Fortune and Love may be Deities page. 13  
There was a Jovial beggar page. 26  
Tell me Jenny, tell me roundly page. 27  
To the Grove, gentle Love, let us be going page. 37  
Tell me ye Sicilian Swains page. 48  
Through mournful Shades and solitary page. 52   

w  
When first I fair Celinda page. 1  
Wealth breeds care page. 11  
Would you be a man in fashion page. 14  
When busy famed o'er all the Plain page. 19  
What art thou Love page. 20  
welcome Mortals to this place page. 22  
Why am I the only Creature page. 28  
When first amyntas charmed my heart page. 83  
Who e're does doubt th● power of Love page. 44  
Where would coy amyntas run page. 47  
When gay Philander left the Plain page. 49  
While here for thee fair Amarillis I die page. 62   

Y  
You happy Youths, whose hearts are free page. 18    

Books sold by John Carr at the Middle-Temple Gate.  
AN Essay to the Advancement of Music, by T. Salmon. Price 2 s.  
The Vocal and Instrumental Music in Psyche, with the Instrumental Music in the Tempest. Price 2 s.  
Melothesia, or Rules for playing a continued Bass on the Harpsichord. Price 3 s.  
Tripla Concordia, or new airs in three Parts for triple and Bass Viols.  
Also all sorts of Musical Instruments and Strings.   

WHen first I fair Ce╌lin╌da knew, her kindness then was great; her Eyes I could with pleasure view, and friendly Rays did meet: In all delights we past the time that could di╌version move, she oft would kind╌ly hear me rhyme upon some other's Love, she oft would kind╌ly hear my rhyme up╌on some other's Love.  

II.  
But, ah! at last I grew too bold,  
Prest by my growing flamme,  
For when my Passion I had  told,  
She hated even my Name:  
Thus I that could her Friendship boast,  
And did her Love pursue,  
Am taught Contentment at the cost  
Of Love and Friendship too.    

BEneath a dark and melancholy Grove, mixed with the Cypress and the mournful Yew, the grow╌ing Emblems of a fruitless Love, with anxious thoughts that did past Acts re╌new, the painful Shepherd lay, and thus his Muse in╌vi╌ted him to say: Why should Plea╌sure so de╌light us in its false fan╌ta╌stick Name? Why should Fraud from Truth in╌vite us? What's the End on't? What's the Aim? All our Acts of past Enjoy╌ment glide and leave us, like a Stream: Present Time's the best Employment; all things past are but a Dream. Then farewell Mansions, sa╌cred bowers, beauteous Friends, and happy Hours! Farewell World, and worldly Bles╌sing, Joy and Mirth beyond expressing; all that Nature e're would prove in fruitless Innocence or Love! But O swift Time, that brings the Morning Light, bids that adieu, and brings the tedious Night; since to that long Farewell my Joys are fled, think on poor Co╌ri╌don as on the Dead.  Mr. Christopher Fishburne.  

IN Cloris all soft Charms agree, en╌chanting Humour, powerful Wit, Beauty from Affe╌cta╌tion free, and for E╌ter╌nal Empire fit; where-e're she goes Love waits her Eyes, the Women en╌vy, Men adore; tho did she less the Triumph prise, she would deserve the Conquest more.  

II.  
But Vanity so much prevails,  
She begs what else none can deny her,  
And with inviting trech'rous Smi●es  
Gives hopes, which even prevent desire:  
Reaches at every trifling Heart,  
Grows warm with ev'y glimm'ring flamme,  
And common Prey so deads her Dart,  
It scarce can wound a Noble Game.   

III.  
I could lie Ages at her Feet,  
Adore her careless of my pain,  
With tender Vows her Rigour meet,  
Despair, love on and not complain:  
My Passion from all change secured,  
Favours may rise no Frown controls:  
I any Torment can endure,  
But Hoping with a crowd of Fools.   Mr. Henry Purcell,  

TELL me no more of Flames in Love, that common dull pretence, Fools in Ro╌man╌ces use to move soft Hearts of lit╌tle sense: No, Strephon, I'm not such a Slave, Love's banished power to own; since interest and Convenience have so long usurped his Throne.  

II.  
No burning Hope or could Despair,  
Dull Groves or purling Streams,  
Sighing and talking to the Air  
In Love's fantastic Dreams,  
Can move my Pity or my Hate,  
But satirist I'll prove,  
And All ridiculous create  
That shall pretend to love.   

III.  
Love was a Monarch once 'tis true,  
And God-like ruled alone,  
And though his Subjects were but few,  
Their Hearts were all his own:  
But since, the Slaves revolted are,  
And turned into a State,  
Their interest is their only care,  
And Love grows out of date.   Mr. Fishburne.  

O Quench these Flames! the mi╌se╌ra╌ble state I 'm in re╌lieve before it be too late: Some Love return, and make me blessed, richer than all the Treasure of the East. Oft in my Face my mind Disease ap╌pears: My silent Brows, my si╌lent sorrow shows itself in Tears. In lonely Caves, obscured with Woods, the stones I move to pity with my daily groans: In every Grove the tender Leaves I paint, both with her Name, Chorus. both with her Name, and with my own Complaint. BUT might I hope the Gods did e're de╌sign to move her Heart to some return to mine; then all who in immor╌tal Thrones reside, grant, grant, that no day, grant, grant, that no day may e╌ver us divide; grant, grant, that no day, grant, grant, that no day may e╌ver us di╌vide.  Mr. Robert King.  

HAppy the Time when free from Love I ranged the Woods and ev'╌ry Grove; I minded not the Great Ones Fall, nor whom Am╌bition did enthrall. I minded not the Great Ones Fall, nor whom Am╌bi╌tion did en╌thrall.  

II.  
My only Care was how to keep  
From cruel Wolves my harmless Sheep:  
But though from Wolves my Sheep I kept,  
None could my Heart from Love protect.  
But though, &c.   

III.  
There is not one upon these Plains  
That loves like me of all the Swains:  
But I have learned now to my cost,  
That who loves best must suffer most.  
But I have, &c.   Mr. R. King.  

PRetty Floramel, no tongue can e╌ver tell the Charms that in thee dwell; those Soul-melting Pleasures should the mighty Jove once view, he'd be in love, and plunder all above to rain down his Trea╌sure. Ah! said the Nymph in the Shepherds Arms, had you half as much Love as you say I have Charms, there's not a Soul, cre╌a╌ted for Man and Love, more true than Floramel would prove; I'd o'er the world with thee rove.  

II.  
Love that's truly free had never jealousy,  
But artful Love may be  
Both doubtful and wooing.  
Ah! dear Shepherdess, ne're doubt, for you may guess  
My Heart will prove no less  
Than ever endless loving.  
Then, cries the Nymph, like the Sun thou shalt be,  
And I, like the kind Earth, will produce all to thee,  
Of every Flower in Love's Garden I'll offerings pay  
To my Saint. Nay then pray  
Take not those dear Eyes away.   Mr. Fishburne.  

IN the Shade, up╌on the Grass where Nymphs and Shepherds lie, Will was courting of a Lass, and nel stood listening by: Quoth Will, You will not tarry two Months before you mary. fie, no, fie, no, never, never tell me so; for a Maid I'll live and die. Quoth nel, So will not I.  

II.  
Long Debates in Hopes and Fears,  
With Kisses mixed between,  
With a Song he charmed her Ears  
How Minds have altered been;  
Finding his Love grown stronger,  
For fear of staying longer,  
cried, Good now, pray now,  
If you love me let me go,  
For fear you change my Mind,  
And leave my Heart behind.   Mr. Fishburne.  

THough the Pride of my Passion fair Silvia be╌trays, and frowns at the Love I im╌part; though kindly her Eyes twist a╌mo╌rous Rays to tie a more for╌tunate Heart, yet her Charms are so great I'll be bold in my pain; his Heart is too tender, too ten╌der, that's struck with D●●●ain.  

II.  
Still my Heart is so just to my passionate Eyes,  
It dissolves with delight while I gaze:  
And he that loves on, though Silvia denies,  
His Love but his Duty obeys.  
I no more can refrain her Neglects to pursue,  
Than the force, the force  
Of her Beauty can cease to subdue.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

WEalth breeds Care; Love, Hope and Fear; what does Love or Bus╌ness here? while Bacchus mer╌ry does ap╌pear, fight on and fear no sinking. Charge it brisk╌ly to the brim, till the fly╌ing Top-sails swim. We owe the great Disco╌ve╌ry to him of this New World of Drinking.  

II.  
Grave Cabals that States refine,  
Mingle their Debates with Wine;  
Ceres and the God o'th' Vine  
Makes every great Commander.  
Let sober Sots Small-beer subdue,  
The Wise and Valiant Wine does woe;  
The Stagyrite had the honour to  
Be drunk with Alexander.   

III.  
Stand to your Arms, and now advance  
A Health to the English King of France;  
On to the next, a bon speranze:  
By Bacchus and Apollo  
Thus in state I led the Van,  
Fall in your place by your right-hand Man:  
Beat Drum! now March! Dub a dub, ran dan:  
He's a Whigg that will not follow.   Mr. Fishburne.  

LOng had Damon been admired by the Beauties of the Plain; every Breast warm Love inspired for the proper handsome Swain. The choicest Nymph Sici╌lia bread was won by his resistless Charms; soft Looks, and Verse as smooth, had lead and left the Captive in his Arms.  

II.  
But our Damon's Soul aspires  
To a Goddess of his Race,  
Though he sues with chaster Fires,  
This his Glories does deface.  
The fatal News no sooner blown  
In Whispers up the chestnut Row,  
The God Sylvanus with a Frown  
Blasts all the laurels on his Brow.   

III.  
Swains be wise, and check Desire  
In its soaring, when you'l woe:  
Damon may in Love require  
Thestyles and Laura too.  
When Shepherds too ambitious are,  
And court Astrea on a Throne,  
Like to the shooting of a Star  
They fall, and thus their Shining's gone.   Mr. Fishburne.  

THough Fortune and Love may be De╌i╌ties still, to those they oblige by their power; for my part, they ever have used me so ill, they cannot ex╌pect I'll a╌dore: Hereafter a Temple to Friendship I'll raise, and de╌di╌cate there all the rest of my Days, to the Goddess accepted my Vows, to the Goddess ac╌cep╌ted my Vows.  

II.  
Thou perfectest Image of all things divine,  
Bright Center of endless Desires,  
May the Glory be yours, and the Services mine,  
When I light at your Altars the Fires.  
I offer a Heart has Devotion so pure,  
It would for your Service all Torments endure,  
Might you but have all things you wish,  
Might you, &c.   

III.  
But yet the Goddess of Fools to despise,  
I find I am too much in her power;  
She makes me go where 'tis in vain to be wise,  
In absence of her I adore:  
If Love then undoes me before I get back,  
I still with Resignment receive the Attack,  
Or languish away in despair,  
Or languish, &c.   Mr. Fishburne.  

HE himself courts his own ru╌in, that with too great pas╌sion sues 'em: When Men whine too much in wooing, Women will like Cocquets use 'em: Some by this way of addressing have the Sex so far transported, that they'l fool away the blessing for the pride of be╌ing courted.  

II.  
Jilt and smile when we adore 'em,  
While some Blockhead buys the Favour;  
Presents have more power o'er 'em  
Than all our soft Love and Labour  
Thus, like Zealots with screwed Faces,  
We our fooling make the greater,  
While we cant long-winded Graces  
Others they fall to the Creature.   Mr. Henry Purcell.  

WOuld you be a Man in fashion? would you led a Life divine? Take a lit╌tle dram of Passion, a lit╌tle dram of Passion, in a lusty Dose of Wine; if the Nymph has no compassion, vain it is to sigh and groan Love was but put in for fashion, Wine will do the work a╌lone.  Capt. Pack.  

BY sha╌dy Woods and purling Streams I spend my Life in pleasing Dreams, and would not for the World be thought to change my false de╌lightful thought: For who, a╌lass! can hap╌py be that does the Truth of all things see? For who, a╌lass! can hap╌py be that does the Truth of all things see?  Mr. Robert King.  

Cae╌lia forgive me my passion, since 'twas cre╌a╌ted by you, you are the fatal occasion, be not the punisher too: If it be a crime to a╌dore you, you should concealed be; since all that do come but be╌fore you, needs must of╌fend like me. Make not soft Pi╌ty a stranger, there where such Vir╌tue does appear; I should not fear so much dan╌ger were you but as kind as fair: But if you knew how much I prise you, would it not your favour move? Plain Justice itself will advice you, still, still to pay Love for Love.  Sen. Damasene.  

MAy the Ambitious Pleasure find in Crowds and empty Noise, while gentle Love does fill my Mind with si╌lent re╌al Joys; with si╌lent re╌al Joys. Let Knave and Fool grow rich and cru╌el, and the World think 'em wise, while I lie dy╌ing at her Feet, and all, and all that World despise. Let conquering Kings new Tro╌phies raise, and melt in Court-delights; her Eyes can give me brighter Days, her Arms much sof╌ter Nights.  Mr. Robert King.  

CEase lovely Strephon, cease to charm; useless, alas! is all this Art; It's needless you should strongly arm, to take a too too willing Heart: I hide my weakness all I could, and chid my prat╌ling tell-tale Eyes, for fear the ea╌sie Conquest should take from the Va╌lue of the prise.  

II.  
But, oh! the unruly Passion grew  
So fast, it could not be concealed,  
And soon alas! I found to you  
I must without Conditions yield.  
Though you have thus surprised my Heart,  
Yet use it kindly, for you know,  
It's not a gallant Victor's part  
To insult o'er a vanquished Foe.   Sen. Damasene.  

YOu hap╌py Youths, whose Hearts are free from Love's Im╌pe╌rial Chain, henceforth be warned and taught by me, and taught by me to a╌void th'inchanting pain. Fa╌t●l the Wolves to trembling Flocks, sharp Winds to Blossoms prove: To careless Seamen, hid╌den Rocks; to human Quiet, Love.  

II.  
Fly the fair Sex, if Bliss you prise,  
The Snake's beneath the flower:  
Whoever gazed on Beauties Eyes,  
That tasted quiet more?  
The Kind with restless jealousy,  
The Cruel fill with Care;  
With base falsehood those betray,  
These kill us with Despair.   Sen. Damasene.  

WHen busy famed o'er all the Plain Ve╌linda's Praises rung, and on their oa╌ten Pipes each Swain her matchless Beauty sung; the envious Nymphs were forced to yield she had the sweetest Face: No e╌mu╌lous disputes were held, but for the second place.  

II.  
Young Coridon, whose stubborn Heart no Beauty e're could move,  
But smiled at Cupid's Bow and Dart, and braved the God of Love,  
Would view this Nymph, and pleased at first such silent Charms to see,  
With wonder gazed, then sighed, and cursed his Curiosity.   Mr. Tho. Farmer.  

WHat art thou Love? whence are those Charms, that thus thou bearest a u╌ni╌versal Rule? For thee the Soldier quits his Arms, the King turns Slave, the Wiseman turns Fool. In vain we chase thee from the field, and with cool thoughts resist thy yoke, next tide of blood, alas! we yield, and all those high Resolvs are broken. Can we e're hope thou shouldst be true, whom we have found so often base? cozened and cheated, still we view and fawn upon the treacherous Face. In vain, in vain, in vain our Nature we accuse, and dote because she says we must. In vain our Nature we accuse, and dote because she says we must. This for a Brute were an excuse, whose very soul and life is lust, whose very soul and life, whose very soul and life is Lust. To get our likeness, what's that? Our likeness is but mi╌se╌ry, but mi╌se╌ry. Why should I toil to propagate another thing as vile, another thing as vile a Fool as I: From Hands divine our Spirits came, and Gods that made us did inspire something more noble in our Frame, above the dregs of earthy Fire: From Hands divine our Spirits came, and Gods that made us did in╌spire something more noble in our Frame above the dregs of earthy Fire.  Sen. Baptist.  

WElcome Mortal to this place, where smiling Fate did sand thee, snatch thy happy Minutes as they pass, who knows how few attend thee? Joy╌es full ripe about thee roll, and flow in endless Measure; dip thy Wishes deep, and fill thy Soul with draughts of every Pleasure. Feast thy Heart with Love's de╌sire, thy Eyes with Beauty's charms, with Imagination fan the Fire, then quench it in thy Arms; for since life a slip╌pe╌ry Guest, whose flight can't be prevented, treat it whilst it stays here with the best, and then 'twill go con╌ten╌ted.  Capt. pack.  

A Sweet Resemblance of heaven no Man did ever see, nor can a╌ny thing like it be, where Joys are all completely given; on╌ly my Caelia, the mighty Queen of conquering Beauty and of Wit, does a true Co╌py make of it. As the Angels music does inspire the Saints a╌bove, so my Caelia( their likeness here) sets all Mens Hearts on fire with the Flames of Love. The starry brightness of the Skies is but the like╌ness of her Eyes: So wondrous good, so matchless fair and sweet, and all Graces so exactly meet, as if Heaven were her, or she her self were it.  Sen. Damasene.  

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
ALL she does and says I weigh, my Fate I seek for in her look, she's my stu╌dy night and day, and yet I can╌not red the Book. Youth is going, Love flies fast, ah! let me know my doom at last. Youth is go╌ing, Love flies fast, Youth is go╌ing, Love flies fast, ah! let me Soft. ah! let me know my doom at last: Ah! let me know my doom at last. know, let me know my doom at last: Ah! let me know my doom at last.  

II.  
If my svit can never thrive,  
And my just Charms forgotten lie;  
If for you I must not live,  
This Hour, this Moment let me die:  
Give more force to your Disdain,  
And put the Wretched out of pain.   

III.  
But if my Despair must end,  
And my true Love rewarded be;  
If your Heart's my private Friend,  
Deny no more yourself and me:  
Quick to my Embraces run,  
heaven can never come too soon.   Mr. Ja. Hart.  

A SONG in the CITY HEIRESSES.  
AH Jen╌ny gin your Eyes do kill, you'l let me tell my pain; good Faith, I loved a╌gainst my will, yet wad not break my Chain: Ize once was called a bon╌ny Lad, till that fair Face of yours betrayed the Freedom once I had, and all my bli╌ther hours.  

II.  
And now wey's me, like Winter looks  
My faded show'ring Eyn;  
And on the Banks of shaded Brooks  
I pass my wearied time:  
Ize call the Streams that glideth on  
To witness, if they see,  
On all the brink they glide along,  
So true a Swain as I.    

THere was a Jovial beggar, he had a wooden Leg; lame from his Cradle, and forced for to beg: And a begging we will go, we'll go, we'll go, and a begging we will go.  

II.  
A bag for his Oatmeal,  
Another for his Salt;  
And a pair of Crutches  
To show that he can halt.  
And a begging, &c.   

III.  
A bag for his Wheat,  
Another for his Rye;  
A little Bottle by his side,  
To drink when he's a-dry.  
And a begging, &c.   

IV.  
To Pimblico we'll go,  
Where we shall merry be;  
With every Man a can in's hand,  
And a Wench upon his Knee.  
And a begging, &c.   

V.  
And when we are disposed  
To tumble on the Grass,  
We'ave a long patched Coat  
To hid a pretty Lass.  
And a begging, &c.   

VI.  
Seven Years I begged  
For my old Master Wild,  
He taught me to beg  
When I was a Child.  
And a begging, &c.   

VII.  
I begged for my Master,  
And got him store of Pelf;  
But Jove now be praised,  
I now beg for myself.  
And a begging, &c.   

VIII.  
In a hollow three  
I live, and pay no Rent;  
Providence provides for me,  
And I am well content.  
And a begging, &c.   

IX.  
Of all Occupations,  
A beggar lives the best;  
For when he is a weary,  
He'll lie him down and rest.  
And a begging, &c.   

X.  
I fear no Plots against me,  
I live in open Cell;  
Then who would be a King,  
When the beggars live so well.  
And a begging, &c.    

TELL me Jen╌ny, tell me roundly, when you will your Heart surrender; Faith and Troth I love thee soundly, 'twas I that was the first pretender. Ne're say nay, nor de╌lay, here's my Heart, and here's my Hand too; all that's mine, shall be thine, Body and Goods at thy command too; all that's mine, shall be thine, Bo╌dy and Goods at thy command too.  

II.  
Ah! how many Maids, quoth Jenny,  
Have you promised to be true to?  
fie! I think the Devil's in you,  
To kiss a body so as you do!  
What d'ye? let me go,  
I can't abide such foolish doing;  
Get you gone, naughty Man,  
fie! is this your way of Wooing!    

WHY am I the on╌ly Creature, must a ru╌in'd Love pursue; o╌ther Passions yield to Nature, mine there's nothing can subdue. Not the Glo╌ry of Pos╌ses╌sing Monarchs wishes gave me ease, more and more the mighty Blessings did my raging Pains increase.  

II.  
Nor could jealousy relieve me,  
Though it ever waited near;  
clothed in gaudy power to grieve me,  
Still the Monster would appear:  
That, nor Time, nor Absence neither,  
Nor Despair removes my Pain;  
I endure them all together,  
Yet my Torments still remain.   

III.  
Had alone her matchless Beauty  
Set my amorous Heart on fire,  
Age at last would do its duty,  
Fuel ceasing, Flames expire.  
But her Mind immortal grows,  
Makes my Love immortal too;  
Nature ne're created Faces,  
Can the Charms of Souls undo.   

IV.  
And to make my Loss the greater,  
She laments it as her own;  
Could she scorn me, I might hate her,  
But alas! she shows me none.  
Then since Fortune is my ruin,  
In Retirement I'll complain;  
And in rage for my undoing,  
Ne're come in its Power again.   Mr. Fishburne.  

LAu╌rin╌da, who did love disdain, for whom had languished many a Swain; leading her bleating Flocks to drink, she spied up╌on a Rivers brink, a Youth, whose Eyes did well declare, how much he loved, but loved not her.  

II.  
At first she laughed, but gazed a while,  
Which soon it lessened to a smile;  
Thence to surprise and wonder came,  
Her Breast to heave, her Heart to flamme:  
Then cried she out, Ah! now I prove  
Thou art a God, most mighty Jove.   

III.  
She would have spoken, but shane denied,  
And bid her first consult her Pride;  
But soon she found that Aid was gone,  
For Jove, alas! had left her none:  
Ah! now she burns! but 'tis too late,  
For in his Eyes she reads her Fate.    

A. 2. Voc. Cantus& Bassus.  
LIke a Dog with a Bottle fast tied to his Tail, like Vermin in a Trap, or a Thief in a jail; or like a To╌ry in a Bog, or an Ape with a Clog: Such is the Man, who when he might go free, does his Li╌ber╌ty lose for a Ma╌tri╌mo╌nial Noose, and sells himself into Cap╌ti╌vi╌ty. The Dog he does howl when the Bot╌tle does jog; the Vermin, the Thief, and the Tory in vain, of the Trap, of the jail, of the Quagmire complain. But well fare poor Pug, for he Play╌es with his Clog: And tho' he would be rid on't rather than his Life; yet he lugs it, and he hugs it, as a Man would his Wife.  Mr. Tho. Stafford.  

A. 2. Voc.  
LET th'ambitious sore high on the Wings of Renown, and mount, and mount, like blind Birds, to come tumbling down: Let Lo╌ver's pale Face his sick Fortune declare; let Trai╌te╌rous Statesmen the Rabble ensnare, Wine's all my Am╌bi╌tion, my Love, and my Care. In Brimmers each Man shall drink Loy╌al╌ly round, till his Fancy's, his Fan╌cy's i'th' Air, and him╌self on the Ground. Our Hats down be╌fore us for Pillows we'll fling, where Pu╌nies shall sleep whilst the A╌ble do sing, All health, all health to the Duke and the King.   

SEE, see, how plea╌sant╌ly she lies, with crossed Arms, and clos'd-up Eyes, smi╌ling with a charming Grace; such In╌no╌cence lies in her Face, that every time she draws her Breath, it wounds so deep, 'twill be my death. prithee, dear An╌gel! dream of me, by Heav'ns I love none more than thee; I bleed, I bleed, and soon shall die, Phillis! ah Phil╌lis! hear my Cry: Death for a minute pray be gone, my Phillis sure will hear my Moan; but if she will not, then come you, and take me hence, and Phil╌lis too.   

A new LOYAL SONG made and composed to music, and sung at the great Feast of the Loyal Gentry of the City of Westminster, in Westminster-Hall, Thursday July 19. 1683.  
HARK how Noll and Bradshaw's heads a╌bove us, cry, Come, come, ye Whigs that love us; come ye faith╌ful Sons, fall down, and a╌dore ye your Fathers, whose Glory was to kill Kings before ye. From Treason and Plots let your grave heads adjourn, and our glo╌ri╌ous Pi╌na╌cle adorn. What tho' the Scaffolds all are down here, to entertain the friends of the Crown here. We whose lives and whose fortunes great Charles will maintain; for Monarchy Haters, damned Asso╌ci╌a╌tors, Whigs, Bastards, and Traitors, wee'l build 'em, wee'l build 'em a╌gain. Let the in╌fa╌mous Cut-throats of Princes be shammed all, their black Souls be damned all, their Blunderbuss rammed all with Brimstone and Fire in╌fer╌nal. The God● that look o'er him did by wonders restore him, their Angels sat round him that hour that they crowned him, and were listed his Guards e╌ternal. HOw like Jove the Monarch of Great-Britain drives the Gi╌antsons of Titan! Down ye Re╌bel-crew; ye Slaves that lie under, see Charles with his Thunder has dashed 'em all a╌sunder: Down from his bright heaven the Aspirers are hurled, lost in the common Rubbish of the World. See how the God returns victorious! and to make his Triumph still more glorious, see the whole Host of heaven the proud conqueror meet! The Stars burn all brighter, the Sun mounts up╌righter, while his Steeds gallop lighter, to see, see their Jove made so great. With the brands and the stings of a Conscience disloyal, from the fi'╌ry Trial let the coward Slaves fly all, leave Vengeance and Gibbets behind 'em, whilst the great Desperado's all turn renegadoes, with their old Friends took napping, in some Coal-hole at Wapping, shall CHARLES and his Justice find' em. LEt the Malice of fanatic Roundhead, hatched in Hell, be still confounded! May the Roy╌al Brothers no Storm e're sever, but new wonders de╌liver, and their Heirs reign for╌ever; on England's bright Throne sit, till Time's last sand runs, and stop their Glories Char'ot with the Sun's! For Charles his se╌cond Restoration, snatched from the Jaws o'th' Imps of Dam╌na╌tion, with Feasting and Revels wee'l cheer up our Souls: For the safety of Caesar, in Joys and in Pleasure wee'l out-run all measure, till our hearts shall o'erflow like our bowls. For a Health to great Charles let the Goblet be crowned there, the Huzza go round there, to the skies let it sound there, to the Throne of Great Charles his Pro╌te╌ctour, till the pleased Gods( that see) Boys, grow as merry as we Boys, join their Sphere in the Chorus, make their whole Heav'ns out-rore us, and pledge us in Bumpers of Nectar.  Mr. Francis Forcer.  

TO the Grove, gentle Love, let us be go╌ing, where the kind Spring and Wind all day are wooing; he with soft sighing Blasts strives to o'retake her, she would not, tho' she flies, have him forsake her. But in circling Rings returning, and in pur╌ling Whispers mourning; she swells and pants, as if she'd say, Fain I would, but dare not stay.   

WHen first A╌min╌tas charmed my Heart, the heedless Sheep began to stray; the Wolves soon stolen the greatest part, and all will now be made a Prey. Ah! let not Love your Thoughts possess, 'tis fa╌tal to a Shepherdess; the dangerous Passion you must shun, or else like me be quiter undone.  Dr. Staggins.  

A Wife I do hate, for either she's false, or she's jealous; but give me a Mate, who nothing will ask us, or tell us: She stands on no terms, nor chaffers by way of Indenture; or loves for the Farms, but takes the kind Man at a ven╌ture.  

II.  
If all prove not right,  
Without an Act, Process or warning,  
From Wife for a night,  
You may be divorced the next morning.  
Where Parents are Slaves,  
Their Brats can't be any other;  
Great Wits and great Braves  
Have always a Punk to their Mother.   Mr. Pelham Humphreys.  

CLo╌ris, when you disperse your In╌flu╌ence, your dazzling Beams are quick and clear; you so surprise and wound the Sense, so bright a Miracle you appear: Admiring Mortals you a╌sto╌nish so, no o╌ther De╌i╌ty they know, but think that all Divi╌ni╌ty's below.  

II.  
One charming Look from your illustrious Face,  
Were able to subdue Mankind;  
So sweet and powerful a Grace,  
Make all Men lovers, but the Blind:  
Nor can you Freedom by resistance gain,  
For each embrace the softer Chain,  
And never struggle with the pleasant Pain.    

FAir Cae╌lia too fond contemns those Delights, wherewith gentle Nature hath softened the Nights; if she be so kind to present us with power, the fault is our own to neg╌lect the good hour: Who gave thee this Beauty, ordained thou shouldst be, as kind to thy Slaves, as the Gods were to thee.  

II.  
Then Caelia no longer reserve the vain Pride,  
Of wronging thyself, to see others denied;  
If Love be a pleasure, alas! you will find,  
We both are not happy, when both are most kind.  
But Women, like Priests, do in others reprove,  
And call that thing Lust, which in them is but Love.   

III.  
What they through their madness and folly create,  
We poor silly Slaves still impute to our Fate;  
But in such Distempers where Love is the Grief,  
'tis Caelia, not Heaven, must give us Relief.  
Then away with those Titles of Honour and Cause,  
Which first made us sin, by first giving us Laws.    

I liked, but never loved, be╌fore I saw that charming Face; now every Feature I adore, and dote on every Grace: She ne're shall know that kind desire, which her could Looks denies; un╌less my Heart that's all on fire, should sparkle through my Ey●● Then if no gentle Glance return a si╌lent Leave to speak, my Heart which would for e╌ver burn, a╌las! must sigh and break.  Mr. William Turner.  

LET business no lon╌ger usurp your high mind, but to Dallance give way, and to Pleasure be kind; let business to morrow, to mor╌row employ, but to day the short Blessings let's closely en╌joy. Let's frolic below till they hear us a╌bove, to Cae╌sar we'll sing, to Cae╌sar and Jove.  

II.  
From business we'll ramble like Bridegrooms unbrac'd,  
And surfeit on Pleasures which others but taste:  
We'll laugh till we weep on the Breasts of the Fair,  
And Tears that are  shed shall the trespass repair.  
Then study below to act those above,  
Who never repent, but are always in love.   Dr. Staggins.  

HOW happy and free is the re╌so╌lute Swain, that denies to submit to the yoke of the Fair; free from excesses of Pleasure and Pain, neither dazzled with hope, or depressed with despair: He's safe from disturbance, and calmly enjoys all the pleasures of Love, without Clamour and Noise.  

II.  
Poor Shepherds in vain their Affections reveal,  
To a Nymph that is peevish, proud, sullen, and coy;  
Vainly do Virgins their Passions conceal,  
For they boil in their Grief'till themselves they destroy,  
And thus the poor Darling lies under a Curse,  
To be checked in the Womb, or o'relaid by the Nurse.   Mr. Richard Croone.  

LOng was the day e're A╌lex╌is my Lover, to finish my Hopes would his Passion re╌veal; he could not speak, nor I could not dis╌co╌ver, what my poor aching Heart was so loth to conceal: till the strength of his Passion his Fear had removed, then we mutually talked, and we mutually loved.  

II.  
Groves for Umbrella's did kindly o'reshade us  
From Phebus hot Rages, who like Envy had striven;  
Had not kind Fate this Provision made us,  
All the Nymphs of the Air would have envied our Love:  
But we stand below Envy, that ill-natured Fate,  
And above cruel Scorn is our happy Estate.   Mr. William Turner.  

WHO e're does doubt the power of Love, see but those Pains he makes me prove; think on the Pleasures I re╌fuse, or on the So╌li╌tude I choose. The Charms of good Wine and Converse I de╌ny; and the Flames to assuage that within me does rage, to the North for R●╌lief I must fly.  

II.  
That vigorous Climate shall I find  
More mildred than this I leave behind;  
The Snowy Breast from which I part,  
Her never-thawing Icy Heart,  
Has still so enured me to could and Disdain,  
That I never shall fear  
The Storms that are there,  
The North yields not half so much pain.   

III.  
But since her Beauty has impressed  
Her Image firmly in my Breast,  
'tis vain to leave her, unless I  
From my own self knew how to fly.  
Yet since in the West she her Thousands hath slain,  
Her Empire shall be  
Enlarged by me,  
In the North Doralisa shall reign.    

AT Syl╌via's feet young Strephon lay, whilst with a Scornful Pride, she viewed the hum╌ble a╌mo╌rous Boy, and did his Fate deride: Ah Strephon! cease, you strive in vain, to make your Conquest sure; coy Sylvia's Eyes dart could Disdain, faint Hopes, but sure Despair.  

Tears lose their Virtue, when addressed,  
To thaw her frozen Heart;  
Tears dropped on Sylvia's Icy Breast,  
To crystal straight convert.   

Then gentle Strephon seek no more,  
What thou shalt never find;  
Thy fruitless Passion give o'er,  
And love a Nymph more kind:   

One that shall all thy Joys complete, [ Sing these four Lines to the latter part of the Tune.]  
And Happiness secure;  
When both with equal flamme shall meet,  
Such noble Loves endure.   Mr. John Roffey.  

A LOYAL Song.  
LIke Quires of Angels we'll Loy╌al╌ly sing, whilst heaven loves the music, God prosper the King; and all his true Sub╌jects with us will a╌gree, none e're in a Prince were so happy, so happy, so hap╌py as we. Pay him the best Homage that People e're gave, make him Lord of your Hearts, and all that you have; For Charles rules the Kingdom by the ve╌ry same Right, that the Sun rules 〈◇〉 Day, and the Moon rules the Night.  

II.  
Phanatics be damned, who Succession out-face,  
And tell us, Dominion is founded in Grace;  
With Julian and Plato, and all their Decrees,  
Who set up new Princes when ever they please:  
But long live the King for to triumph o'er those,  
Who the Laws of the Crown or Land do oppose;  
And when our great Monarch to heaven must begon,  
May the rightful Successor then sit on his Throne.   

III.  
When Rebels their Oaths of Allegiance forsook,  
And did wait for the Blood of the King& the Duke;  
The Stars in their Courses appeared for the Crown,  
And Legions of Angels did guard them to Town:  
And 〈◇〉 Whigs in Cabals do daily combine,  
The ●●us ●f the Air will reveal the design;  
And lawful Succession just heaven shall secure,  
As long as the Sun and the Moon do endure.   

IV.  
blessed are the People, when heaven does Espouse  
The Cause of the King, and establish his House;  
No Cant of Phanatics, or Commonwealth Zeal,  
Can ev●● pre●●il by a Whiggish Appeal:  
But Charles must for ever the sceptre command,  
Which the Powers above have reposed in his hand;  
And we unto heaven will our Gratitude pay,  
And make his whole Reign a long Thanksgivingday.   Mr. Francis Forcer.  

A new Song in the late revived Play, called, Valentinian.  
WHere would coy A╌min╌ta run, from a de╌spai╌ring Lo╌vers story? when her Eyes have Conquest won, why should her Ear re╌fuse the Glory? Shall a Slave, whom Racks constrain, be forbidden to complain? Let her scorn me, let her fly me, let her looks her Love de╌ny me; ne're shall my Heart yield to Despair, or my Tongue cease to tell my Care; or my Tongue cease to tell my Care. Much to love, and much to pray, is to heaven the on╌ly way.   

TELL me ye Si╌ci╌lian Swains, why this mour╌ning o'er your Plains? Where's your u╌sual Me╌lo╌dy? Why are all your Shepherds mad? And your Shepherdes╌ses Chorus. sad? What can the migh╌ty mea╌ning be? Sylvia the Glo╌ry of our Sylvia the Glo╌ry, &c. Plains, Sylvia the Love of all our Swains, that blessed us with her Smiles; where every Shepherd had a Heart, and ev'╌ry Shep╌her╌dess a part, sleights our Gods, and leaves our Isle, sleights our Gods, and leaves our Isle.   

A. 2. Cantus& Bassas.  
WHen gay Phi╌lan╌der left the Plain, the love, the life of ev'╌ry Swain, his Pipe the mourn╌ful Stre╌phon took; by some sad Bank and murmuring Brook, whilst listening Flocks forsook their Food, and me╌lan╌cho╌ly by him stood; on the could ground himself he laid, and thus the mournful Shepherd played.  

II.  
Farewell to all that's bright and gay,  
No more glad Light and cheering Day;  
No more the Sun will gilled our Plain,  
till the lost Youth return again:  
Then every pensive Heart that now  
With mournful Willow shades his Brow,  
Shall crowned with cheerful Garland's sing,  
And all shall seem Eternal Spring.   

III.  
Say, mighty Pan! if you did know,  
Say all ye rural Gods below,  
'Mongst all Youths that graced your Plain,  
So gay, so beautiful a Swain;  
In whose sweet Air and charming voice,  
Our listening Swains did all rejoice;  
Him only, O ye Gods! restore,  
Your Nymphs and Shepherds ask no more.   Mr. Henry Purcell.  

Against LOVE.  
HOW happy's that Mortal whose Heart is his own, and for his own quiet's beholding echo. echo. to none, beholding to none, to none; that to Love's Enchantments ne're lendeth an echo. echo. Ear, which a frown or a smile can e╌qual╌ly bear, can e╌qual╌ly bear, can bear: Nor on Soft. ev'╌ry frail Beauty still fix╌es an Eye, but from those fly Felons doth prudently fly, doth echo. pru╌dently, prudently fly, doth fly; for the Heart that still wanders is pounded at echo. echo. last, and 'tis hard to relieve it when once it is fast, when once it is fast, is fast.  

II.  
By sporting with Dangers still longer and longer,  
The Fetters and Chains of the Captive grow stronger;  
He drills on his Evil, then curses his Fate,  
And bewails those Misfortunes himself did create:  
Like an empty chameleon he lives on the Air,  
And all the day lingers 'twixt Hope and Despair:  
Like a Fly in the Candle he sports, and he games,  
till, a Victim to Folly, he dies in the Flames.   

III.  
If Love, so much talked of, a Heresy be,  
Of all it enslaves, few true Converts we see;  
If hectoring and huffing would once do the feat,  
There's few that would fail of a Vict'ry complete:  
But with Gain to come off, and the Tyrant subdue,  
Is an Art that is hitherto practised by few:  
How easy is Freedom once had to maintain;  
But Liberty lost is as hard to regain.   

IV.  
This driv'ling and sniv'ling, and chiming in parts,  
This whining and pining, and breaking of Hearts;  
All pensive and silent in corners to sit,  
Are pretty fine Pastimes for those that want wit:  
When this Passion in fashion doth so far abuse 'em,  
It were good the State should for Pendulums use 'em:  
For if Reason it seize on, and make it give o'er,  
No labour can save, or relieve 't any more.   Mr. Tho. Kingsley.  

On MARRIAGE.  
HE that is resolved to wed, and be by th' Nose by Woman lead, let him consider 't well e're he be sped; for that lewd Instrument, a Wife, if that she be inclined T. Soft. to strife, will find a Man shrill music all his life, will find a Man shrill music all his life.  

II.  
If he approach her when she's vexed,  
Nearer than the person does his Text,  
He's sure to have enough of what comes next;  
And by our Grammar Rules we see,  
Two different Genders can't agree,  
Nor without Solecisms connected be. {repeat}   

III.  
Yet this by none can be denied,  
That Wedlock, or 'tis much belied,  
Is a good School, in which Man's virtue's tried:  
And this convenience Woman brings,  
That when her angry mood begins,  
The Husband never wants a sight of's Sins. {repeat}   

IV.  
If he by chance offend the least,  
His Pennance shall be well increased,  
She'll make him keep a Vigil without a Feast:  
And when's Confession he is framing,  
She will not fail to makes Examen,  
He has nothing else to do, but to say Amen. {repeat}   Mr. Tho. Kingsley.  

A Thousand federal ways I tried to hid my Passion from your view, conscious that I should be denied, because I can╌not me╌rit you; absence, the last and worst of all, did so increase my wretched Pain, that I return'd, ra╌ther to fall by the swift Fate, by the swift Fate of your Disdain.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

THrough mournful Shades, and so╌li╌ta╌ry Groves, fanned with the sighs of un╌suc╌cess╌ful Loves, wild with Despair young Thirsis strays; thinks o╌ver all A╌mi╌ra's heavenly Charms, thinks he now sees her in anothers Arms; then at some Willow's feet himself he lays, the lov╌li'st most un╌hap╌py Swain, and thus, thus to the wild Woods he does complain.  

II.  
How art thou changed, O Thirsis! since the time  
That thou couldst love, and hope without a Crime;  
When Nature's Pride, and Earth's Delight,  
As through her shady Evening Walk she passed,  
And a bright Day did all around her cast,  
Could see( nor be offended at the sight)  
The sighing, melting, wishing Swain,  
That now must never dare to wish again.   

III.  
Riches and Titles, why should they prevail,  
Where Duty, Love, and Adoration fail?  
Lovely Amira! couldst thou prise  
The empty Noise that a fine Title makes,  
Or the vile Trash that with the Vulgar takes,  
Before a Heart that sighs for thee, and dies?  
Be not unkind, but pity the poor Swain  
Your Rigour kills, not triumph o'er the Slain.   Mr. Henry Purcell.  

LET us, kind Les╌bia! give a way in soft Em╌bra╌ces all the day; we'll laugh at what the Old report, and make their Gra╌vi╌ty our Sport: The Sun sets ev'╌ry night, and can rise ev'╌ry day as bright again; but when once sets our smallest Light, we then shall find it always Night; dissolved in Sleep, both thou and I must e╌ver Les╌bia, e╌ver lie.  Chorus. 
THen let us kiss, then let us kiss, and kiss a╌gain, and give a hun╌dred, hundred THen let us kiss, let us kiss, and kiss again, and give a hun╌dred, hundred thousand more; let us kiss, kiss on as we began, and give as ma╌ny as be╌fore. thousand more; let us kiss, kiss on as we began, and give as ma╌ny as be╌fore. But lest perchance our primed Bliss some envious Ri╌val should descry, we'll wipe out But lest perchance our printed Bliss some envious Ri╌val should descry, we'll wipe out all with one more kiss, and so, so de╌ceive his jea╌lous Eye, and so, so deceive all with one more kiss, and so, so de╌ceive his jea╌lous Eye, and so, so deceive his jea╌lous Eye. his jea╌lous Eye.  Mr. Henry Purcell.  

The CAUTION.  
BEware, poor Shep╌herds! all be╌ware, be╌ware of Lelia's Arts; whose ev'╌ry word con╌tains a Snare, her Eyes a thou╌sand Darts: She'l hear and en╌ter╌tain your Vows, and give you hopes of Bliss; nay, swore she loves, confirm the Oath, and seal it with a Kiss.  

II.  
But when the woeful circumstance  
Proclaims the Conquest sure,  
Too late you'l curse the fatal Chance,  
Too soon th'effect endure:  
I that once thought myself her Care,  
Now hopeless must complain;  
Learn therefore, learn to shun the Snare,  
By thinking on my Pain.   Mr. Henry Purcell.  

A Dialogue between PHILANDER and the echo.  Philander. 
STay, stay, gen╌tle Ec╌cho, dear Nymph! stay, with Love's fad Language thou canst play; the last of my Discourse retort, Love, once thy grief, is now thy sport.  echo. 
Thy sport.  Philander. 
My sport, fair Nymph? no, 'tis my pain, to love, and not find love again.  echo. 
Love again!  Philander. 
Cru╌el! thus to increase my Care, is Love a Cordial for Despair?  echo. 
Or De╌spair.  Philander. 
Love or Despair! what dost thou mean, wouldst have me suf╌fer both a╌gain?  echo. 
Both a╌gain.  Philander. 
And what reward shall I e're find? will fair Clarissa be still un╌kind?  echo. 
Still unkind.  Philander. 
When Passion strains his Voice most high, will she like thee, like thee, far╌ther fly?  echo. 
Far╌ther fly.  Philander. 
Shall I in vain my sighs repeat, since Cupid's grown so great a Cheat? Tell me, dear Ec╌cho! how I may chase this in╌tru╌ding Guest a╌way, and break that Bow, whose power most strange, thy Substance to a Voice did change?  echo. 
Change.  Philander. 
Ah no, my Fate I can╌not fly! 'tis harder far to change than die.  echo. 
Than die.  Philander. 
Ah! ah! what, does this echo say die?  echo 
Ah die!  Philander. 
Is this the Counsel I implore? Hence bubbling Air, I will no more.  echo. 
Ill no more.  Philander. 
Be ill no more? That I believe, he can't be ill that does not live. When Titan's weary Carr once more has traced the spacious Heav'ns o'er, near to this happy Fountain set, I'll call thee with my Fla╌ge╌let: Fail not to hast and know my will.  echo. 
I will.  Dr. John Blow.  

A Pastoral Elegy on the Death of a lovely Boy.[ Words by Mr. Tho. Flatman.]  
ALex╌is, dear A╌lex╌is, love╌ly Boy! Oh my Da╌mon! oh Palemon! snatched away, to some far distant Re╌gion gone, has left the mi╌se╌ra╌ble Co╌ri╌don, bereft of all his Comforts, bereft of all his Comforts, all a╌lone. Have you not seen the gen╌tle Youth, whom every Swain did love, cheerful when ev'╌ry Swain was sad, beneath the me╌lancho╌ly Grove? His face was beauteous as the down of Light, broken through the gloo╌my Shades of Night. Oh my Anguish! my Delight! him, ye kind Shepherds, I bewail, till my Eyes and Heart shall fail; 'tis he that's landed on that di╌stant Shore, and you and I shall see him here no more, and you and I shall see him here no more. Re╌turn A╌lex╌is, Oh re╌turn! re╌turn, re╌turn, in vain I cry; poor Co╌ri╌don can ne╌ver cease to mourn, thy too un╌time╌ly cru╌el De╌sti╌ny: farewell for e╌ver, for e╌ver, char╌ming Boy, farewell for e╌ver, and with thee all the Transport of my Joy; ye powers above, why should I longer live, to wait a few un╌com╌for╌ta╌ble Years, to drown myself in Tears, for what my Sighs and prayers can ne're retrieve, for what my Sighs and prayers can ne're retrieve.  Dr. John Blow.  

WHile here for the fair A╌ma╌ril╌lis I die, she o'er Rocks and o'er Streams from my Pas╌sion does fly; O! bring her, kind Venus, bring her here back a╌gain, and the chief of my Herd un╌to thee shall be slain: But if she's appeased, if to Love she incline, take all my whole Herd, my lit╌tle Herd is all thine.  Mr. Francis Forcer. 
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THere is now Published those excellent Sonnata's of three Parts, for two Violins and Bass-Viol, with a Through-Bass for the Organ or Harpsichord; composed by that great Master of music Mr. Henry Purcell, Composer in Ordinary to His Sacred Majesty, and Organist of His Chappel-Royal, containing four Books; all fairly Engraven upon Copper Plates, and true and well printed, for the Author, and are sold by John Playford and John Carr, at their Shops near the Temple Church, and at the Middle-Temple Gate.   

music Books printed for John Playford, at his Shop near the Temple Church.  
CAnticum Sacra, Hymns in Latin for two and three Voices to the Organ, composed by Mr. R. Dearing, in four Books in Folio. Price stitched 3 s. 6 d.  
Canticum Sacra, the second Set of Divine Hymns and Anthems, some in Latin and some in English for two Voices to the Organ; composed by several eminent English Masters, in three Books in Folio. Price stitched 4 s.  
Hymns or Mottets for two Voices to the Organ; composed by Mr. Walter Porter, some time one of the Gentlemen of His Majesties chapel. Price 2 s. 6 d.  
The Psalms of David, and other sacred Hymns, according to the common Tunes sung in Parish Churches; composed in four Parts: Printed in Folio. Price 3 s.  
The Psalms in Metre, as they are sung in all Parish Churches, with the proper Tune to every Psalm; composed in three Parts, viz. Cantus, Medius, and Bassus, and printed in a small Volume, convenient for all such as sing those Tunes musically, to carry in their Pockets to Church. Price bound 3 s.  
A brief Introduction to the Skill of music, both Vocal and Instrumental, by J. Playford: Printed in Octavo. With an addition of the Art of Descant, never printed before. Price bound 2 s. 6 d.  
The Musical Companion, containing variety of Catches and Rounds of three and four Parts; and also several choice Songs, airs, and Dialogues, of two, three, and four Parts, in one Volume in Quarto. Price bound 3 s. 6 d.  
The Treasury of music, containing three several Volumes of Select Songs, airs, and Dialogues, for one Voice to the Theorbo-Lute, or Bass-Viol; composed by Mr. Henry Laws, and other eminent Masters; in Folio. Price bound 10 s.  
Five new Books of choice airs, Songs, and Dialogues, to sing to the Theorbo-Lute or Bass-Viol. printed severally.  
musics Recreation on the Lyra-Viol, containing variety of new airs, Tunes, and Lessons. Price stitched 2 s.  
The Dancing-Master, or plain and easy Rules to dance Country Dances, with the proper Tunes to each Dance to play on the Treble-Violin, newly Reprinted with 25 new Dances never printed before. Price bound 2 s. 6 d.  
musics Handmaid, containing new choice Lessons for the Virginals and Harpsichord, newly Reprinted with Additions of plain and easy Rules for beginners to play from the Book, all engraven on Copper Plates. Price 2 s. 6 d.  
The Pleasant Companion, containing new and pleasant airs and Tunes for the Flagelet, with plain Instructions for Learners, newly Reprinted, and many of the newest Tunes added. Price bound 1 s.  
Apollo's Banquet, a Book for the Treble-Violin, containing variety of new airs, and Theater-Tunes and embracings; to which is added, the proper Tunes to the French Dances, as they are in use at Court and Dancing-Schools: All which Tunes may be performed upon the Recorder or Flute. Price 1 s.  
The Delightful Companion, a new Book of Lessons and Instructions for the Recorder or Flute. Price 1 s. 6d.  
The Division Violin, containing a choice Collection of Divisions to a Ground for the Treble-Violin; all engraven on Copper Plates. Price 2 s. 6 d.  
The best ruled Paper for music, and Books ready Bound of all sizes.  
☞ There is now in the Press a Book of new Catches, never printed before.   

Other BOOKS sold at the same place.  
THE History of the most unfortunate Prince King Edward the Second, with Political Observations on Him and his unhappy Favourites Gaveston and Spencer; written by the Right Honourable Henry Lord Viscount Faulkland. Price bound 1 s.  
England's Black Tribunal, set forth in the trial of King Charles the First, by a pretended High-Court of Justice, Jan. 30. 1648. with his Speech on the Scaffold; together with the Dying-Speeches of the Nobility and Gentry who were inhumanly murdered for their Loyalty, viz. The Earl of Strafford, Dr. Laud Archbishop of Canterbury, Duke Hamilton, Earl of Holland, Lord Capel, Earl of derby, marquis of Montross, Sir Henry hid, Sir H. Slingsby, colonel Penruddock, colonel Gerrard, colonel Andrews, Dr. Hewet, and others. Price bound 2 s.  
Wit and Mirth, an Antidote against Melancholy, compounded of new ingenious Poems, witty Ballads, and new and pleasant Songs and Catches; newly Reprinted with several Additions. Price bound 1 s. 6 d.  
A Second Part to the Antidote against Melancholy, containing merry Tales, witty Jests and Bulls. Price bound 1 s.  
There likewise all Gentlemen and Ladies may be furnished with all sorts of curious Prints,( as well Foreign as Domestic) either with Frames or without, very ornamental for closerts or other Rooms.