ornia lal 7 Southern Branch of the University of California Los Angeles FormL 1 TR This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 3 o ia& X W 'APR 18 1930 J.l93a f 1 ^ 29 1969 LD-UiU 3VIAR 181 , NOV 27 193 MAR 20 MAY 28 1947 1949 1 1951 Rec'd UC I L U I Vr\ 1 V I , ANQELE& CALIF. \ 1- ___ __^ _____ ___^ __ 4r 687" A select Collection of In- glish songs (byJos. Ritson). London, 1783, 3 vol. in-S, avec rnusiquo, veau fauve a fil. bel expl. Rare. y&ti'}t.z-(''i-~&fy / / y y - ' ^(A-Hit- --^ v^'M-f yLe-/u+ Slt- Oo ul 2 tf 3 II -- ' < r- ~J: w MI,S CELLAR EDUS I I* This Day is piibiiihed, Price Twelve Shillings in boards, or Fifteen Shillings Wr'//^^. bound, Hmdfomeiy'pr'-pted in Three Volume? Crowr G lavo, and -adorned with a greut number of ekgimt ci> LECTION of ENGLISH /\ !S. O N G S. . To which is prefixed .AH Fff;;y on t'v.: o: igih ai ! vrcgrels. of Song Wr;i;i:^. Friatcd icr J. johiifon/Ko. 72, St. Paul's Ch::r^h- . \.\~- Colic^ion coruito f.f the i-jod ciletme:! ai-.d mnii valuable pieces in tho Kntriifli i'.r.guu^r, h'Jiii the rejgn of Q,iicen Elizabeth to th: pr.:!.-!,;; tinie, irMeftui-" with great ;isbour;md atten:ic.n from :r.;-ncr"'..o, Xi'-herAic, - oud uiiconitnpn books; collciii:ed iiy the coM.ition ol vari- ous copies, and puWifeed with th? xitrsiott fidelity and care; many of them litt.e ki:v,'jj, and n .-;.- t'.vo LvitiircJ. "before in fertt-d in any Colitctj.-,;. fot^jrli^- \vitli oil admired tunes, i_.'-iftjd, cc'.latc-J, a:i-^ tigiijal or m publifhed with equal diligence a:: d accuracy ; t '!_ IIMI::: -ir the fcvcral authors and compoil-ri.u;-- ar.d :: v-rioy oi other inUrtfling'pariiciiiai 1 *, ili;. 4 - of thjiuoj..',-t. Tmi vvin-k lifirg- dt-figned for a -.Ij^.lijig ft'ep "''.ry of the eJforts ot Englila^g^muA-iii'-melody i f -,i .v.j-. r :, v.-iii, it is hoped, jrovo jj;fin:tL-!y i'uucrior in trfrcry rui';e^, to any Ccili-oHon \vi-ich ha-, hirhcr^j ;t-pc:ircd. N. B. A ic\v Copies are printed u:; iir.rr p;'p.T. SELECT COLLECTION O F ENGLISH SONGS, IN THREE VOLUMES. VOLUME THE FIRST. . APIS MATINJB MORE MOD'OqUE GRATA CAftPENTIS THYMA PER LABOREM PLURIMUM. HOR. LONDON: Primal for J. JOHNSON in St. Pauls Church-yard* MDCCLXXXHI. rr: 1352 2323 PREFACE. j*. VO PUBLICATIONS of this nature are already fo numerous that, if a preface had not, on any other account, been neceffary, fomethihg of the kind would, doubtlefs, have been required, by way of apology, for adding one more to the number, particularly under fo ^ plain and unalluring a title as that with which the pre- ^ fent volumes are umered into the world. Every work, however, mould be its own advocate, and fo muft this, whatever may be here alledged in it3 favour. P ;rhaps, indeed, if the above circumftance be viewed inaproper light, we mail find that the multiplicity of fimi- i lar compilations afford rather an argument for, than an ^ objection to an additional undertaking, upon an im- proved plan. There is not, it may be fairly afferted, ^ any one language in the world poffeffed of a greater variety of beautiful and elegant pieces of lyric poetry ^ than our own. But, fo long as thefe beauties, this ele- gance, continue to be fcattered abroad, fupprefled, and (if one may be allowed the expreflion) buried alive, in a multitude of collections, confifting chiefly of competitions of the loweft, and moft defpicable nature ; \ one or more being annually hafhed up (crambe repetita) ^ by needy retainers to the prefs, and the moft modern ^ being, always, infinitely the worft, (much of the one, - and many of the other being, likewife, interfperfed through books of a quite different caft, fome of which are very voluminous, and others veryfcarce,) the greater part of this ineftimable poffeflion muft, of courfe, re- main altogether unknown to the generality of readers. For who, let his defires and his convenience be what they may, will think it worth his while to perufe, much lefs tc purchafe, two or three hundred volumes, merely be- caufe each of them may happen to contain a couple of excellent fongs? Every one who wiflies to poffefj a pearl, is not content to feek it in an ocean of mud. VOL. I. b Entirely, H PREFACE, Entirely, then, to remove every objection to which th fubjeft is, at prefent, open ; to exhibit all the moft ad- mired, and intrinfically excellent fpecimens of lyric poetry in the Englilh language at one view ; to promote real, inftru&ive entertainment; to Satisfy the critical tafte of the judicious; to indulge the nobler feelings of the penfive; and to afford innocent mirth to the gay; has been the complex objeft of the prefent publication. How far it will anfwer thefe different purpofes, muft be fubmitted to time, and the j udgement, tafte, and candour of its various readers. The editor is, however, aware that a late elegant collection, under the title of EJ/ays on Sing-writing, may be mentioned as an exception to every charge brought againit preceding publications ; and it, cer- tainly, is very far from being his intention to involve that work in the general reprobation. Neither, indeed, will the comparatively fmall number of fongs which, the ingenious compiler has, according to his own pro- feffion, been able to felecl:, chiefly, perhaps, to illuttrate his difcourfes on the fubjeft, and introduce the original compofitions, be, upon examination, foand, unlefs in a very remote degree, to interfere with, or by any means to I'effen the propriety of the prefent attempt. In explaining the nature and methodical difpofition of thefe volumes, it may not be impertinent to premife, that, as the collection, under the general title of SONGS, confifts, not only of pieces ftricHy and properly fo called, but likewife, though in great difpropor- tion as to number, of BAL-LADS or mere narrative com- pofitions, the word SONG will, in the courfe of this preface, be almoft every where ufed in its confined fenfe ; incluiive, however, of a few modern and fentimental ballads, which no reader of talle, it is believed, will be inclined to think out of place. Of the SONGS, therefor, in this fenfe, and as forming the bulk of the work, we are now to fpeak. The plan which has been adopted with regard to thefe is a divifion or arrangement under the three heads er dalles of LOVE, DRINKING, and MISCELLANEOUS PREFACE. iii SONGS. This, perhaps, is too natural an idea to be a novel one; but it does not appear to have been prac- tifed more. than once or twice, and even then without either judgement or attention, and in compilations which have been long buried in oblivion. It would have re- quired a very fmall mare of fagacity in the editor, to have puzzled and furprifed his readers with a new, fan- ciful, and intricate arrangement of his materials under a multiplicity of defcriptions. By fuch ingenious con- trivances, he might poifibly have received the credit of trouble which he never took, and of difficulties which he never encountered; but how far his ingenuity would have 'benefited his readers, is a doubt which he does not find altogether fo eafy to folve. The general diftribution which has been preferred was, it is cbnfefled, fimple and ready; but the interior order and difpofition of the contents of each department is peculiar to the prefent volumes, and required more accuracy and attention than will, perhaps, be immediately conceived, or it is here meant to describe. The firft and principal divifion, which forms the fub- jecl matter for the whole of the prefent volume, is en- tirely confined to fuch pieces as are generally compre- hended within the appellation and idea of LOVE SONGS. This part is fubdivided into many inferior portions or clafTes, difplaying or defcribing that fublime and noble, that, fometimes, calm and delightful, but more fre- quently violent, unfortunate, and dreadful paffion, in all its various appearances, and with all its different effects, confequences, and connections. Thefe objects are not, . indeed, and neither neceffity nor propriety feemed to require, or even allow, that they mould be, pointed out in the different pages where they occur; but the atten- tive reader will eafily perceive, on the flighted: infpec- rion, the particular fubjedl of each clafs. This will be rendered more obvious and familiar by the elegant and characterise defigns which precede and terminate each di- vifion. And they who may choofe to confider the above jnode rather a fatigue than a pleafure, are here inform- ed, that the fubjefts peculiar to Clafs I. are diffidence, b admiration, iv PREFACE. admiration, refpect, plaintive tendernefs, mifplaced paf- fion, jealoufy, Tage, defpair, frenzy, and death: that in dais II. love is treated as a paffion; withpraife, con- tempt, reproach, fatire, and ridicule: that Clafs III. exhibits the upbrsidings, quarrels, reconciliations, in- difference, levity, and inconftancy of lovers; and ft clofed by a few pieces, in which their misfortunes or moft ferious fituations are attempted to be thrown into burlefque : that Clafs IV. is devoted, folely, to profef- fions of love from the fair fex : the moral to be drawn from the ill confequences of this paffion being cherimed in fuch tender bofoms, by the fatal inftances of thof* unhappy fair ones who have fuffered it to overcome their prudence, will be too obvious, as it is too melancholy, to efcape obfervation, or to need enforcing : that Clafs V_, turns entirely upon the chafte delights cf mutual affec- tion, and terminates with feme beautiful reprefentationi of cojinubiaLfelicity, and a few, not impertinent, admo- nitions to its bright creators. This arrangement, which is as comprehenfive as if is particular, and will, it is hoped, be found to have been executed with all the care and attention fo new and difficult a projecl could re, quire, the editor wholly fubmits to the tafte and judge- ment of his fair readers ; who, he trufts, will receive the higheft and moft refined amufement, not without confi- derable inftruclion, from every part of the volume; which, certainly, contains a much greater number and variety of elegant and beautiful compofitions on the above intereiting fubjedt than were ever attempted to be brought together in any former collection, or than it would be even poffible for them elfewhere to meet with. The fecond part, or firft divifion of the other volume, ccmprifes a fmall quantity of Anacreontics, /. e. Baccha,- Dalian, or, with the readers permiffion, (and the title is not only more fimple, but more general and proper) DRINK- ING SONGS ; cbanfons a boire; moft of which may be rea- jfonably allowed to have merit in their way : but the editor will candidly own that he was not forry to find every en- deavour ufed to enlarge this part of the colle&ion with Credit, (and he. may, probably, as it is, have been too indulgent) PREFACE. v indulgent) prove altogther fruitlefs : a circumftance, per- haps, which will, fome time or other, be confidered as not a little to the honour of the Englifh mufe. The third and laft division is compofed of fuch pieces as do not fall within either of the above defcriptions, and contains feveral truly valuable lyric competitions, both ancient and modern, on a variety of fubje&s. It will be regretted that the number could not be rendered more confiderable. Although no fubdivifion appeared nce ry, or was, indeed, admiffible, or even practicable, in thefe two laft parts, the reader may yet perceive an attention to, and propriety in the arrangement and difpofidon of each, with which, it is prefumed, he will not have reafon to be difpleafed. Throughout the whole of the firft volume, the utmoft care, the moft fcrupulous anxiety has been fhewn to ex- clude every competition, however celebrated, or however excellent, of which the flighteft expreffion, or the moft diftant allufion could have tinged the cheek of Delicacy, or offended the purity of the chafteft ear. This abo- mination, fo grofsly perceptible in, almott, every preceding collection, and even where editors have dif- claimed its countenance, or profeffed its removal, is - here, it may be fafely averred, for the firft time, re- formed altogether ; the remoteft inclination to fuch an offence being fcarcely to be difcovered, even in that quarter in which licentioufnefs has been fo long fuffered, nay expected, to reign 'without controul, and was, of courfe, with the greater difficulty reftrained, amongft the Bacchanalian fongs ; where, however, the editor is perfuaded, no one of his fair readers, for whofe perufal this part of the collection is, certainly, neither calcu- lated nor intended, will feek to detect it. A former editor, a gentleman of taite and fentiment, has termed an exe- cution of his duty in this refpeft, '< a difagreeable piece of feverity ;" the prefent editor, however, far from having experienced any pangs of remorfe on the oc- cation, wilhes he could have had reafon to glory in being b 3 the vi PREFACE. the inftrument of definition to the whole fpecies of thofe infidious and infernal productions. Curs'd be their verfe, and blafted all their bays, Whofe fenfual lure th* unconfcious ear betrays ; Wounds the young breaft, ere virtue fpreads her fhield. And takes, not wins, the fcarce difputed field! Tho' fpecious rhet'ric each loofe thought refine, Tho' mufic charm in ev'ry labour'd line, The dang'rous verfe to full perfection grown, Bavius might bluih, and Quarles difdain to own.* Molt, if not all, of the pieces which form the three divifions already enumerated, will be found more accu- rately printed than in any former compilation ; having been*feleted from the beft editions of the works of their respective authors, and other approved and authentic publications, or corrected by a careful collation of nu- merous copies. There is another advantage, which the prefent collection pofTefles unrivaled, and that is, the great number of names of the real authors of the fongs, prefixed to their refpeftive performances. By thofe who, in reading the prefent colleclion, fhall happen to remark the careful omiffion of all Scotim fongs, it may be expefted that the editor mould give fome reafons why no pieces of that denomination, many of which are univerfally allowed to pofTefs the higheft de- gree of poetical merit, have been inferted. It might, perhaps, be fufficient, on this occafion, to plead the words of the title, which only promifes ENGLISH Songs ; but the editor is not, however, without a fur- ther, and, he would willingly hope, a more fatisfaftory apology; which is, an intention to prefent the public, at fome future opportunity, with a much better and more perfeft colleclion of fongs ENTIRELY SCOTTISH, than any that has been hitherto attempted : he muft, therefor, intreat the patience of fuch of his readers W. Whitehead. PREFACE. vii as are difappointed by, or may happen to complain of the prefent omiffion, till fuch intended publication appear. In the mean time, ihould any pieces of Scotifli extraction be difcovered in thefe volumes, which there is every reafon to think will not be the cafe, he has only to confefs his ignorance of their origin, and to defire better information. With refpeft to the. lyric productions of our now filter-kingdom Ireland, the beft of them have been gene- rally efteemed and ranked as Engliih fongs, being few in number, and pofTeffing no national, or other peculiar or diftinguifhing marks;* of thefe, however, the num- beris very few, and that which might be deemed the moU exceptionable, the HUNTING SONG at page 168, vol. II. may be well pardoned on account of the fupe- rior excellence of its composition to moil others on the fame fubjeft: this defcription of fongs being, in gene- ral, as utterly void of poetry, fenfe, wit, or humour, as the practice they are intended to celebrate, whether it be the diverfion of the prince or the peafant, is irrational, favage, barbarous, and inhuman f. The * The diftinHon between Scotijh and Englifb fongs, it is con- ceived, arifes not from the language in which they are written, for that may be common to both, but from the country to which they refpeelively belong, or of which their authors are natives. This dif- crimination does not fo necefTarily or properly apply to Ireland; great part of which was colonifed from this kingdom, and the descendants of the fettlers, the only civilifed and cultivated inhabitants, have, confequently, been, ever fmce, looked upon as Engltft) : the native Irilh being, to this day, a very different people. Every one has heard or the ENGLISH PALE. J- It is hoped, however, that the editors parti.ility for the truly claffical performance which immediately precedes the laft-mentioned fonc, will not be judged inconiifient with his abhorrence of its fuhjecl:. Ke will avail hisfelf of this opportunity to remark, as rathjr a whim- fical circumftance, that both thefe pieces have been commonly attri- buted to the ingenious mr. George Alexander Stevens ; and, perhaps, with pretty equal juflices the firft of them having been cornpofed up- wards of a century and a half ago, and the other not being inferted in bis own publication of Songs comic and fatyrical : the value of wltich work is not diminished by any tranfpoficions from it into the b 4 prefent via PREFACE. The infertion of fongs on political topics, the beft of which are not only too temporary, but too partial to gain much applaufe when their fubjedls are forgotten, and their fatire has loft its force, has here been ftudi- ously avoided. A compofition, however, fo humourously pointed as the VICAR OF BRAY, or fo elegant and pa- thetic as HOSIERS GHOST, may fafely bid defiance to both age and oblivion: the one will continue to move our tendereft paflions, and the other to excite a hearty laugh, fo long as the language in which they are writt- en lhall be more than a name. Songs on what is called Freemafonry feemed calcu- lated rather to difgrace than to embellifh the colle&ion. The moft favourite and admired compofitions on this ftrange fubjecl: muft neceflarily appear abfurd, con- ceited, enigmatic, and unintelligible, to thofe who have rot had the fupreme happinefs to be initiated into the hallowed myileries of this venerable fociety : and they who have will know where to find them. Several pieces of fome antiquity and great merit being here and there inferted, it has been attempted to point them out to the reader, by affixing the iignature O. (old) to thofe which appear to have been compofed, or rather firft publifhed, within the courfe of the lalt century; and the letters V. O. (very old) to fuch as were printed before its commencement; unlefs the name of the author ferved to afcertain the age of his fong with greater propriety. The orthography of the whole collection will, however, it is believed, (except in a {ingle inftance *) be found reduced to a modern, correct and uniform ftandard throughout ; fo far, at leaft, as eftablilhed corruptions, and natural prejudice would eafily permit. It may be, likewife, proper to re- mark that there is no one fong here publifhed, which was not in print before, although moil of the manufcript prefin 1 : colleHon; though many of his fpirited Bacchanalian lyrics would have done it the utmoft credit, had the editor thought hisfelf at liberty to makeufe of them. * Song LIJ. Part II. collections PREFACE. fe collections in the Harleian and other libraries in tho Mufeum were carefully confulted for materials, without any other fuccefs than as they fometimes afforded an, improved reading, of which the editor has in a very few places, where emendation was abfolutely neceflary, availed hisfelf. It is not, however, by this meant to affert that no unpublifhed lyric poetry is to be met with in the above noble repofitories : there is a prodigious quantity: but not a fingle ftanza occurred of fufficient merit to mingle with the elegancies of the prefent collection. It would not, perhaps, have been difficult to have procured original pieces in any number; but the editor could not, confidently with his refpect for the public, obtrude upon them a fmgle line, which had not been already ftamped with their approbation, or on the merits of which they had not had an opportunity to decide. This collection does not, therefor, any way interfere with a publication of fuch fongs as have not hitherto been communicated from the prefs. What is already faid has been entirely con- fined to the three firft parts of the collection ; of PART THE FOURTH, therefor, a confiderable, at leaft intereft- ing portion of the work, not to be found in any former compilation of this nature, it ftill remains to be fpoken. This department is engrofled by a felect number, indeed ALL THE BEST, of our old popular tragic legends, and hiftorical or heroic ballads : the genuine effufions of the Englifh mufe, unadulterated with the fentimental re- finements of Italy or France. And without thefe (which would by no means affimilate or mix with the more polifhed contents of the preceding divifions) the collection, as profeffedly defigned to comprehend every fpecies of fmging poetry, would, doubtlefs, have been im- perfect. Every piece in this clafs has been tranfcribed from Come old copy, generally jn black letter; and has, inmoft cafes, been collated with various others, preferved in different repofitories. Many of them, however, it muft be confefled, are printed in the Reliques of ancient EngUJb .PREFACE. Paetty- a work which may, perhaps, be by fomft thought to have precluded every future attempt. But, In truth, there is not the leail rivaifhip, or even connec- tion, between the two publications. And, indeed, if the contrary had been the cafe, tie inaccurate, and fophif- ticated manner in which every thing that had real pretenfions to antiquity, has been printed by the right re- verend editor of that admired and celebrated work, would be a fufficient apology Tor any one who might undertake to publifli more faithful, though, haply, lefs elegant copies*. No liberties, beyond a necefTary modernifa- tion of the orthography, have been taken with the lan- guage of thefe antique compositions, unlefs in a few inftances, where a manifeit blunder of the prefs at once required and juftified the correction. The reader muft be, therefor, content to take them, as they were proba- bly written, at leaft, as they have come down to us, With all their imperfections on their head. The arrangement of this part of the collection is, in miniature, as near as could be, that of the firft and third. The names of authors could not be prefixed, becaufe they are unknown in moil inftances, and only imper- fectly guefTed at in the reft. Nor has the editor made any attempt to afcertain or diftinguifh their different ages; * The truth of this charge, which will not, it is believed, much furprife any perfon converfant in the illailrious editors authorities, may, on feme future occafion, be more minutely exemplified, and fatis- fa&orily proved. It will be, here, fufficient to obferve, that frequent recourfehasjin compiling materials for the prefent volumes, been ne- ceflarily had to many of the originals from which the Reliqua are profeffedly printed ; but not one has, upon examination, been found to be followed with either fidelity or correclnefs. That the above work is beautiful, elegant, and ingenious, it would be ridiculous to deny j- but they who look into it to be acquainted with the ftate of Ancient poetry,will be miferably difappointed or fatally misled. Forgery luid impofition of every kind, ought to be univerfally execrated, and never more than when they are employed by perfons high in rank or character, and thole very circumstances are made ufe of to fanclify tfee deceit. a talk, PREFACE. jfc ataflc, perliaps, unneceffary, certainly, impoffible. The reader, not better informed, muft, therefor, remain fatisfied with this general affertion : That there is no reafon to conclude any of them much older than the latter part of the reign of queen Elizabeth, nor any more modern than the time of king Charles the firft. A TUNE is fo efTentially requifite to perfect the idea which is, in ftrictnefs and propriety, annexed to the termsoNp, in its moft extenfive fenfe, that every com- pilation of this nature which does not, together with the words or poetical part of the fqngs, likewife include their refpective melodies or tunes, in the character ap- propriated to the expreflion of mufical language, muft neceffarily be defective and incomplete. That this cha- racter is not familiar or intelligible to the general eye can be no objection. It is, indeed, much to be la- mented that it is not rendered more fo, by becoming an eftablifhed branch of education. There are, however, many to whom theperufal of mufic is not more difficult, or lefs delightful, than the reading of poetry : and few, very few, are fo unfortunate as to be incapable of per- ceiving the force and beauty of the language conveyed by thefe technical characters, when communicated to the ear. Moft people can either fmg, whittle or hum fome favourite air; and is not that ignorance to be lamented which does not permit them to read and write what they can thus utter ? No apology is, therefor, ne- ceflary for the moft ufeful and eflential appendix fub- joined to the prefent volumes, even to thofe who do not underftand it ; becaufe they may eaiily receive the full benefit of it from thofe who do ; and the latter will, it is imagined, be too fenfible of its ufe and value to re- quire one. Every reader, at all acquainted with the na- ture of this part of the undertaking, muft be fufficiently aware of the pains neceflarily ufed to amafs fuch an un- exampled number of original and authentic tunes; many of which are the production of the moft eminent cha- racters of the mufical world, and difplay the fublimeft efforts of genius. Readers of this defcription will, likewife, jcfi PREFACE, likewife, have the candour to make every proper allow- ance for whatever defects may be difcovered in the mu- fical part of the work. The difficulties to be furmount- cd in the compilation were great: many of the old melodies (efpecially thofe of the ancient ballads) are, it is to be feared, irrecoverably loft; and, of later com- pofitions, fome have never been fent to the prefs, and others, which have, are not now to be obtained but by mere accident. This excufe is, hewever, fomewhat more extenfive than the nature and circumftances of the cafe feem to demand; as, it is believed, much fewer and lefs confiderable omiffions will occur than could reafon- ably have been expected. There are not many preceding publications which have made this their object; and a competition from thefe is not at all dreaded. To fuch fair readers as may complain of the want of a bafs part for their harpfichords, the editor will beg permiflion to fay, that, had it been practicable, however inconfiftent with the defign of the work, fo earneft v/as his defire to render it of the utmoft fervice to them, lie would have thought no trouble too great in procur- ing their gratification in this particular. But they will be pleafed to remember, that moft of the old melodies are without any accompaniment; that to others the bafs lias been added by different and inferior compofers (a liberty which may flill be taken for the accommodation of thofe who require it) ; and that the fole object of this compilation was the voice and fong, to which the bafs would have been of no fervice. For a fimilar reafon, no regard has been paid to any fymphony or harmony, or to the compafs of any particular inllrument, It may not be impertinent to take notice, that feveral of the molt eminent mufical compofers have frequently indulged theirfelves in great and unwarrantable liber- ties with the poetry they have fet : among thefe, none has offended more than the late dr. Arne, whofe own pro- feffional excellence might have better taught him there- fpect due to that of another, and mr. Jackfon of Exeter, who has even gone fo far as to prefix to one of his pub- lications PREFACE. xiii lications a formal defence of the freedoms he has exer- cifed upon the unfortunate bards who have fallen into his clutches : it is well known, however, that this in- genious gentleman has increafed neither his moral nor his fcientific character by fuch reprehenfible and illiberal practices. Whereever a reftoration of the original words could be effected without injuring, or creating any ma- terial variation in the mufic, they have been, uniformly, replaced; but, as this could not be always done, the reader will not be furprifed at, fometimes, finding a few words in the mufical, different from thofe in the poetical part of the collection. On all occafions, however, where the alterations were violent and injudicious, the tune was totally omitted ; and this, perhaps, would have been the method obferved with all thofe mufical compofitions in which the authors vanity has led him to attempt im- provements upon the moft finifhed performances of real poets, had not the fuperior excellence of the melody pleaded too forcibly for their retention. The types here made ufe of prefented the only mode of printing the mufic which could be adopted. The reader may be furprifed to learn that, in this great kingdom, where all arts and fciences are fuppofed to flourifh in their higheft perfection, there is not, perhaps, above one printer pofTefled of a fufficient quantity of thefe ufeful characters, and that of no other fize. They who are acquainted with the degree of elegance to which this and every other branch of the typographical art are arrived upon the continent, or have even looked into that moft beautiful fpecimen of it, the ANTHOLOGIE ' FRAN^OISE, will have fufficient reafon to condemn that purblind and felfifh policy which can reftrain and pre- vent all emulation in fcience in favour of a private monopoly. Impelled by no lucrative or unworthy motives, the publifher of the prefent volumes has been folely careful to do juftice to the work ; a purpofe, to effeft which neither labour nor expence has been fpared. And he is vain enough to flatter hisfelf that the public will have now xiv PREFACE. now in their pofleffion, what has been fo long wanted, fo much defired, fo frequently attempted, and hitherto, he thinks, fo imperfeftly executed, A NATIONAL REPO- SITORY OF MELODY AND SONG. The intrinuc value of the work, in both refpefts, will be left to pronounce its owneulogium. The editor is, indeed, anfwerable for what may be deemed injudiciously preferved, or unjuftly difcarded. But, whatever may be the defefts of any of the poetical or mufical compositions he has inferted, he can fafely aver that not a fingle performance of either kind was wilfully rejefted without the moft deliberate consideration. And, though he is confcious of having exerted his utmoft endeavours to recover every fong and melody of merit, he will not be forward to affirm that thofe endeavours have, in every inftance, been crowned with fuccefs. Some few compofitions there may un- doubtedly be (for it is fcarcely poffible there mould be many) which have eluded his refearches, and with which he muft be contented to refer his acquaintance to time, accident, more extenfive enquiry, or liberal communi- cation. The collection, as it is, will, it is hoped, be found infinitely fuperior, in every refpedl, to any pub- lication of the like nature which has been yet offered to the public, to whofe juftice and candour it is refigned with pleafure ; in a full confidence, that they will not think either that it is unworthy of their acceptance, or that too much has been here urged in its praife. A HISTORICAL A HISTORICAL ESSAY ON THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS O F NATIONAL SONG. $ I. O O N G, in its moft general acceptation, is de- ^ fined to be the expreffion of a fentiment, fenfa- tion or image, the defcription of an aclion, or the nar- rative of an event, by words differently measured, and attached to certain founds, which we call melody or tune (i). All writers agree that Song is the moft ancient fpeeies of poetry. Its origin is even thought to be coeval with mankind (2): to fing and dance feeming almoft as natural to men as the ufe of fpeech and walking. Hence we 4 find the dance and the fong whereever we find fo- ciety ; in the leaftpolimed, or moft favage nations (3). It is aifumed as a facl; by a very learned and ingenious writer of our own country,* that the manners of a rude (i] The inhabitants of rrioft countries have different clafles or or- ders of Songs, to which they generally adapt particular names. With us, fongs of fentiment, exprelfion, or even defcription, are properly termed' SONGS, in contradifHndlion to mere narrative eompofitions, which we now denominate BALLADS. A fimilar idea is adopted by the Spaniards : and, in France, every divifion aimoft or which th fubjecl is capable has an appellation peculiar to it. (z) Burneys Hiftory of Mufic, I. 311. (3) M, M. de Querlon, Meaioire fur U Chanfon. ( Antho, Fwn. j VOL. II, b and Ii A HISTORICAL ESSAY and uncultivated people, muft in all ages have been the fame (4). We are, therefor, to look for the fim- plicity of the remotefl periods among the favage tribes of America, at prefent ; or at leaft before they were civilifed perhaps corrupted by their commerce with Europeans. We find that thefe nations have their war-fong, their death-fong (5), fongs for the chace, (4) Brown, Hiftory of Poetry and Mufic. paffm. (5) It is a cuftom with the American favages to put t death the prifoners they take in war by the moft lingering and exquifite tor- ments. Thefe it is the height of heroifm for the viclim to bear with apparent infenfibility. During a feries of excruciating tortures, of which a European can fcarcely form the idea, he fings aloud a fong, wherein he ftrives to aggravate the wrath of his enemies, by recount- ing the injuries and difgrases they have fuffered from him and his nation ; derides their tortures, as only adapted to the frame and refo- lution of children ; and exprelfes his joy in pafling with fo much ho- nour to the land of fpirits. Of one of thefe fongs the following ftan- zas, which are handed about in manufcript, and have not, it is be- lieved, already appeared in print, are faid to be a tranflation. This may, perhaps, turn out not to be the cafe ; but, whatever becomes of the authenticity of the compofition, it cannot well be denied that the writer has treated the real fubjeft in a manner equally fpirited ana "beautiful. THE DZATH-SONG Of A CHEROKEE INDIAN. The fun fets in night, and the ftars fliun the day, But glory remains when their lights fade away : Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain, For the fon of Alknomook will never complain. Remember the arrows he fhot from his bow ; Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low : Why fo flow ? Do you think I will fluink from the pain ? No : the fon of Alknomtiok will never complain. Remember the wood where in ambufli we lay, And the fcalps which we bore from your nation away. Now the flame rifes faft, you exult in my painj But the fon of Alknomook can never eomplaia. I go to the land where my father is gone ; His ghoft fliall rejoice in the fame of his fon. Death comes like a friend, he relieves me from pain: And thy fon, o Alknomook^ has fcorn'd to complain. to ON NATIONAL SONG. . iii to their miftrefles, and, above all, thofe in which they extol the gallant aftions of their ancient heroes. When the ifland of Hifpaniola was firft difcovered by the Spa- niards, the employment of the natives, as we learn from an almoft -contemporary writer, confifted chiefly in acquiring a knowlege of their origin and hiftory, and particularly of the noble afts of their anceftors both in peace and war. " Thefe two thynges," fays he, " they " haueofolde tyme compofed in certayne myters and bal- "lettesin theyr language. Thefe rymes or ballettes they " calldreitos. And as our mynftrelles are accuftomed to fyng "' to the Harpe or Lute, fo do they in lyke maner fyng ' thefe foriges, and daunce to the fa'me, playing on Tim- ' brels made of fhels of certaine fifties They haue alfo ' fonges and ballettes of loue, and other of lamentations ' and mournyng, fome alfo to encourage them to the ' warres, with euery of them theyr tunes agreeable to the ' matter (6)." Here we fee the practice of mankind in the infancy of creation. How curious, how pleafmg would it be to be made acquainted with the genuine effufions of the human mind in this ftate of nature and Simplicity ! And how fortunate is it, that Montaigne has preferved an original Caribbean fong, which he does not hefitate to declare worthy of Anacreon ! The reader will not be dif- pleafed to fee it. " O Snake, ftay; ftay, O fnake, that my fifter may ' draw, from the pattern of thy painted ikin, the fafliion, " and work of a rich ribbon ; which I mean to prefent to. " my miftrefs : fo may thy beauty and thy difpofition be ** preferred to all other ferpents. O fnake, ftay, &c." (7) (6) Peter Martyr, Hiftory of Travaile in the . and W. Indies, &c. ty R.Eden, 1577. 410. b. 1. Decade 3. fo. 139, b. The practice of the native Americans is much the fame. See Lafitau, Meeurs des Sauvages, torn. ii. Brown, c. 2. The Peruvians were a polifhed peo- ple, and with them melody and fong were in great perfection. Gar- cilaflb dela Vega, in his Royal Commentaries of Peru, informs us, that their fabulous and other fongs were innumerable} and profefles to lave compiled great part of hishiitory from, the old national ballads. C?) Effty*, B, I, C, 3*. M.de Querlofl, b 2 It iv A HISTORICAL ESSAY It is, perhaps, as M. de Querlon ingeniously ob- ferves, the firft time that the idea of a ferpent gave rife to a piece of gallantry. In the earlieft ages of mankind, the chief employment of all ranks was the care of their flocks and herds ; hence the firft fongs were,doubtlefs, on the moft natural of fubjefts, Love, Beauty, Innocence, the furrounding images, and the charms of a paftoral life. And, indeed, as an ingenious writer (8) has juftly remarked, the ideas of fvveetnefs, ten- dernefs,andfimplicity, are fo ftrongly annexed to the paf- toral fong, that, in all countries, whether they have had fhepherds or not, fongs, in imitation of what theirs were at leaft fuppofed to be, have always been moft numerous, popular, and pleafmg. In procefs of time, when fu- perftition and gratitude had created gods and heroes, their praifes became a favourite topic. Wine too, we may be fure, as foon as it was known, would, while it infpired the fong, have its mare in the praifes of the poet. The moft ancient nations of the world, the Egyptians, the Hebrews, the Arabians, the Aflyrians, the Persians, the Afiatic Indians, are all known to have had the ufe of fong (9). The firft of thefe, as we have it on the tefti- monyof Herodotus (10), had, in his time, a mournful or elegiac fong, called, from its fubjed, Maneros, which they had retained from the moft remote antiquity. Lyric or fmging poetry has been, likewife, cultivated among the Chinefe, time immemorial (i i). Song, in Greece, is fuppofed to have preceded the ufe of letters. It was, in the earlieft ages, the only method they had to tranfmit from father to fon what it was the national intereft not to forget (i 2). The fongs of the moft ancient Greek Lyrifts were, perhaps, the principal, if not the only, fources of information to their oldeft hilto- () M. de la Nauze. See below. (9) M. de Querlon. (10) Euterpe. (11) M. de Querlon. ( 12) M. de la Nauze, Mcmoire fur let Chanfoni de 1'ancicnnc Grew, (Hift. de r Awd. ix. 320.) ON NATIONAL SONG, v rians(i3). But the origin and ufe of fong were, doubtlcf*, the fame in Greece as they have been every where elfe. The Arcadian mepherds, fo famous among the anci- ents, were the firft fongfters of Greece. This country, fertile in fi&ion, gave birth to the Mufes in Theflaly, from the amours of Jupiter, in the difguife of a fhepherd, and Mnemofyne. At firft there were no more than three : they were afterwards multiplied to nine. Each had her department, and Polyhymnia prefided over fong (14). Linus is fuppofed to have been the firft lyric poet of any confequence in Greece. He was the matter of Orpheus, Thamyris, and Hercules. The laft was ex- tremely dull and obftinate, and his mafter being once provoked to ftrike him, the hero inftantly feifed the muficians lyre, and beat his brains out with his own inftrument(i5). Plutarch, from Heraclides of Pontus, mentions certain dirges as compofed by Linus; and his death gave rife to a number of fongs, in honour of his memory, being annually bewailed by a folemn cuftom. To this cere^ mony Homer is fuppofed to allude by the following lines in his defcripdon of the mield of Achilles : To thefe a youth awakes the warbling ftrings, Whofe tender lay the fate of Linus lings ; / In meafur'd dance behind him move the train, Tune loft the voice, and anivver to the itrain. POPE (16). Hence the mournful fong or lamentation obtained the names of Linos and Aelinos. Orpheus is, next to Linus, the moft ancient and vene ruble name among the poets and maficians of Greece. He was an adventurer in the expedition of the Argonauts (17), and not only excited them to row, by the found of his lyre, but vanquifhed and put to filence the Sirens by the fuperiority of his ftrains(iS). (13) Burney, I. 357, (14) M. de Querlon. (.15) Burney, I. 319. (16) Idem, I. 319, 330. (17) N T ear 1300 years before Chrift. (18) Burney, I. 320. b 3 The vi A HISTORICAL ESSAY The Sirens were fupernaturals,of an inferior order, half women and half birds. They inhabited the coaftof Sicily, and made it their bufmefs, by alluring fongs, to draw ignorant or unwary navigators toward the /here, where their veflels bulged upon (harp rocks, and were fwallowed up by violent whirlpools. At the inftigation of the god- defs Juno, they challenged the Mufes to a trial of Ikill ; and, being vanquished, their antagoniits plucked the golden feathers from their wings, and made them into crowns for their own heads (19). Ulyfles, in the Odyfley, relates his adventure with them, ajid gives the fong they ufed tofeducehim. All know how the fongs of Orpheus mollified the iron heart of Pluto, when he ventured into the infernal domi- nions to regain his wife. This poet abstained from ani- mal food, in order, as it has been fuppofed, to induce the barbarous Thracians, whom he attempted to civilife, to abolifh the diabolical practice of eating human flefh (20). His endeavours to reform thefe monfters do not, how- ever, appear to have been attended with much fuccefs; as neither his philofophy nor his poetry was able to pro-r tecl him from the favage fury of theThracian Bacchants, What could the Mufe herfelf that Orpheus bore, The Mufe herfelf for her inchanting fon, Whom univerlal Nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hidepus roar, His goary vifage down the ftream was fent, Down the fwift Hebrus to the Lefbian fhore (21)? The moft ancient Greek fongs, now known, are faid to be of magic and incantation ; and of thefe fome have been afcribed to Orpheus. Mufic and fong made a principal" part of every feftive entertainment among the ancient Greeks. The cuftom of fmging at table is frequently alluded to by Homer, f 19) Burney, I, 307. Thefe ladies feldom ufed their victories with much lenity : Thanrwis having had the arrogance to contend with them, they puniflied his temerity with the lofs of his fight. I, 323. (20) Idem, (ai)'Lycidas. I who ON NATIONAL SONG. vii who is even thought to have written not only the Iliad and Odyffey, but a number of other poems, to be fung at feafts, by hisfelf or others, to the found of the lyre. Nor is it th leaft derogation to the father of poetry to be found in this character. The bards or chanters of ancient Greece were treated with the higheft refpeft, and even regarded as perfons divinely infpired (22). Neither does this diftinftion appear to have arifen more from their extraordinary talents, than from their exemplary virtues. Agamemnon leaves one of them as the propereft guardian or monitor of his wife Clytemneftra; thatihe, by continu- ally hearing fung the praifes of women, eminent for their chaftity and goodnefs, might continue virtuous through emulation. Nor could JEgi&hus corrupt her till he had difpatched the mufician in a defert ifland (23), The poetical part of the fong, the melody, and the dance, are frequently reprefented, in ancient authprs, as one and the fame thing, and were certainly called by one and the fame name. We find the youths in Homer dancing to the fong. In the warlike dance, one youth ftrikes the lyre, others fing the fong, the reft dance. The dance was in imitation of the things exprefled in the words of the fong. A ceremony which Xenophon in his Expedition, re- lates to have been pra&ifed at the feaft of Seuthes the Thracian (24). Songs for the table, however, were by much the moft numerous. Originally it mould feem that, af- ter the repaft, all the guefts fung, either together, or in their turns. The cuftom was, in the latter cafe, for the finger to hold in his hand a branch of myrtle, which was parted from one to another, according to the rank or ftation they occupied at table (25). Afterwards, when the lyre was introduced, and fmg- ing required more than ordinary talents, that inftrument, (21) Burney, I. 357. (23) Athenaeus, p. 14. (24) Athenaeus, p. 15. where is a curious account of a warlike dance. {2 5 )M,delaNauze. b 4 with, viii A HISTORICAL ESSAY with, perhaps, the myrtle, was fent to thofe only who were of diftinguifhed merit, or known to poflefs the re- quifite abilities, whereever they might happen to be plac- ed (26). Hence it was that, from the irregular fituation of the performers, the fongs obtained the name of Scotia, or unequal, a term afterwards applied to fongs in gene- ral. This practice is faid to have been invented by Ter- pander, who flourished in the twenty-fifth Olympiad, ;'. e. about 680 years before Chrift. Perhaps the time of that poet was only the asra of its commencement. Athenams tells us, that the Scolia were originally fung after the common fongs by ordinary perfons were over; for then, fays he, it was the cuftom for each wife man to produce fome elegant fong; and it was admired as ele- gant, if it contained fome precept or fentiment ufeful in life (27). Thefe Scolia were on all fubjefts ; but chiefly on thofe of love and wine. That " Love infpires mufic and " poetry," was a celebrated fentiment among the Greeks, and makes the fubjccl; of a queftion in Plutarch (28). The learned Frenchman, who has treated this difficult fub- ject with a degree of comprehenfion and perfpicuity not eafilyparalleledin fimilar difquifitions (29), has arranged them under the following heads: I. Moral, 2. Mytholo- gical and hiftorical, 3. Common and ordinary fubjefls. Of all which, fuificient fpecimens, either ^entire or in frag- ments, are preferved by Athenasus and other ancient writers. The molt famous and pleafmg writers of Scolia on love, wine, and good chear, are Alcaeus and Anacreon. " Sing me," fays a character in Ariftophaneses comedy of the Banqueters, " Sing me," fays ke, " one of the (z6) It has been thought by Tome that when a gueft declined to re- ceive the lyre, from a want of /kill, they imrncdLitely Cent him a myr- tle branch, to which he was, in that cafe, obliged to fing. Hence, it is faid, to bid a man " fing to the myrtle," bec.ime a common pro- verbial exprefiion ; implying that he wanted learning or eloquence to mingle in the converfation of men of letters and genius. Erafmi Adagia, 947. See alfo Potters Antiquities of Greece, II. 403. (27) 1. 15. p. 693, (28) M. de la Nauze. (29) Idem. ON NATIONAL SONG. t the year, and in ail muations ot life (30). The lyric lapfodies of Anacreon are well known j they are pure colia, and every thing we can imagine the moft perfeft id elegant fongs on thofe fubjeds Ihould be. But, how- " Scolia of Alcaeus or Anacreon." The former, in one of his fongs, recommends, in general, to drink in all feafons of the year, and in all fituations of life (30). The lyric rhaj: " Sc and elegant fongs on ever excellent or admirable the compofitions of this great poet are, we ought not to fuppofe that he was without a rival. The following fong, preferved by Athenaeus (31), is altogether in his bell fpirit. Quaff with me the purple wine, And in youthful pleasures join ; With me love the blooming fair, Crown with me thy flowing hair ; When fweet madnefs fires my foul, Thou (halt rave without controul j When I 'm fober, fink with me Into dull fobriety. Praxilla, a learned Sicyonian lady, compofed a great number of hiftorical Scolia, of which, though me was much admired on this account, fcarce any now remain. Among the Sco/iaof this defcription, few are fo frequently mentioned, or fomuch applauded by ancient writers, as thofein praifeof Harmodius and Ariflogiton, whofe ftory is fhortly this. Hipparchus, one of the fons and fucce/Torsof Pififtratus,whohadufurped the regal power in Athens,hav- ing publicly infulted the fitter of Harmodius, he, in con- jun&ion with his friend Ariftogiton, flew the tyrant at the Panathenjean games : an event which was the fignal to the Athenians to recover their liberty (32). Thefe fongs ap- pear to have been numerous. One of them, beginning, " There was never an Athenian," is mentioned by Arifto- phanes, in his comedy of the Wafps, where it is propofed to be fung at table by the old mans fon. But the moft ce- lebrated fs, undoubtedly, that preferved by Athenasus, of which the following is a trauflation. The author is fup- pofed to be one Calliftratus, whom the prefent bifhop of (30) M. de la Name. (31) 1. 15. (31) Burney, I. 469. London 5t A HISTORICAL ESSAY London has pronounced an ingenious poet and excellent citizen (33). In myrtle leaves I s ll wear my fword, As did Harmodius and his friend fo true, What time the tyrant king they flew, And freedom to her feat reftor'd. Thou, lov'd Harmodius, art not dead j Thou to the Happy Idas art fled j Where Peleus' ion, as poets tell, And matchlefs Diomedes dwell. With myrtle leaves my fword array, Like dear Harmodius and his friend fo true, What time the tyrant king they flew, Upon Minervas feftal day. Blefs'd youths ! with endlefs glory crowned, The world your praifes (hall refound, Becauie the tyrant king ye flew, And Athens freedom gain'dby you (34.). The fong of Eriphanis, addrefled to her lover Men alcas, Called Ncmiott', of Calyce, whofe itory refembles that of Sappho; and of Harpalyce, were famous love fongs among the Greeks, but are now loft (3 5). The moral and mifcellaneous Scolia, according to dr. Burney, arc wonderfully ilrnple and infipid. He gives a literal veriion of one, which does not, it muft be confefled, appear to have any extraordinary merit. It is this : (but the latter part, which is lefs intelligible, and, indeed, ap- pears to labour under fome confiderable miftake, is not tranflated by dr. Burney:) " Son of Telamon, warlike Ajax ! they fay you are the " braveil of the Grecians who came to Troy, next to A- (33) V< facra Poe/t. The learned prelate fpiritedly adds, that fuch t fong in the mouths of the people of Rome after the death of Caefar, would have been of more fervice than all Ciceros Philippics. " Plus " trtberc ule -valuij/et," fays he, " unum 'Aj/txeh's /utXa? tjuam Cicertnli (34) A different, and far from inelegant, verfion may be read In dr. Burneys hiftory (I. 469). The ingenious author is, however, (though fupported by the authority of Cafaubon) certainly miilaken, in confi- dering the fong as two diftinft fragments. (3S)M.de laNauzc, " chilles,- ON NATIONAL SONG. " chilles. [They fay that Telamon was the firft and Ajax " the fecond who came to Troy, next to Achilles.]" Another, of which, as the fame ingenious writer pleafantly obferves, neither the poetry nor morality is very exalted, runs thus : " He who does not betray his friend, has great honour ft both with gods and men, in my opinion (36)." Alcman was one of the firft and moil eminent compofers of fongs upon love and gallantry. He is faid to have banimed hexameters, and adopted a fhort meafure for his verfes, which, from being fung to the lyre, afterwards ob- tained the name of lyrics. He fung his airs to the found of the flute. A few fragments of his numerous and cele- brated compofitions are imagined to be Hill extant.(37). Simonides, a famous bard, who flourished about the year 500 before Chrift, compofed fongs of victory and triumph for the conquerors at public games. His poetry was fo tender and plaintive, that he was called Me/icertes, fweet as honey ; and the tearful eye of his Mufe was pro- verbial. A beautiful fragment of this poet is preferred by Dionyfius of Halicarnaflus (38), We may Hkewife rank Pindar in the lift of writers of Scolia, not on account of his odes, which, though writt* en for, and fung to the lyre, are undoubtedly no fongs, but on the authority of Athensus, who has inferted pieces of that defcription under his name. Sapphos elegance as a poetefs is too well known to need mentioning here, The fragment preferved by Longinus, of which mr. Philips has given fo happy a (36) The author of this Scolium, does not, however, on confulting Athenaeus, appear to have had perfeft juftice done him. " Alas ! alas ! Lipfydrium, betrayer of thy friends, what heroes ' thou haft deftroyed, men brave in battle, and lovers of their country, '< who then fliewed from what anceftors they fprung. The man who '* betrays not his friend, deferves, in my opinion, great glory among *' men and gods." -^Lipfydrium was a place in Attica, of which the Akmaeonidae, (the family or relations of the patriot Megacles) took pofleflion, and fortified it againft the Pififtratidae, the ufurping fov& feigns of Athens. The former weie routed with great daughter. (37) Burney, I. 357, (38) Idem, I. 395. translation* xii A HISTORICAL ESSAY translation, as well as her beautiful addrefs to Venus, is a pure Scolium : as is likewife Ariftotles hymn to Virtue, a compofition which has been always admired. Almoft every jprofeffion in Greece feems to have had a long peculiar to it. Thus Athenaeus mentions the fongs of the flaves grinding in the mill, of the gleaners, of the nurfes, of the labourers going into the fields, of the bath- keepers, of the bakers, of perfons tending cattle, tffr. (39) We have likewife fome account of thofe of the fhepherds, the reapers, and thofe who got in the harveft, and trod out the corn, of the water-drawers, of the millers, of the weavers, of the carders or dreffers of wool, of children, &c. &c. (40) Fragments of fome are ftill preferved (41). The Greeks had likewife fongs adapted to particular circumftanc^; ; r ceremonies, as feftivals, courtfhip, marriage, funerals, joy, forrow, &fr. (42) There were among thefe people, as there are with us, blind men, who begged from door to door, fmging. Athenaeus, from Phoenix of Colophon, an iambic poet, has preferved one of their fongs (43), of which the reader has here a poetical verfion. It muft be premifed, that the finger carried a raven on his hand, which he calls Corone (the Greek name for that bird), and for which he affected to beg. Ye who to forrows tender tale With pity lend an ear, A tribute to Corone bring, Apollos favourite care (44-). (39) p. 618, 619. (40) M. de la Native. (41) The very nature and ufe of thefe fongs would undoubtedly require great fimplicfty. Thales remembered to have heard a female flave of Lefbos ringing the grinders fang as (he turned the mill. It began thus : ' Grind mill, grind, for Fiascos, king of Great Mitylene, likewife " grinds." This monarch, it is faid, ufing that exercife on account of his health. (42) Athe. p. 619. M, delaNauze. (43) 1. 8. p. 359. (44) The raven was facred to this god. It was once white, and of a beautiful figure, but, having too officiously reported the difloyalty of his miftrefs Coronis, whom he, in confequence of that informa- tion, haftily killed with an arrow, was rewarded by its prefent hue and appearance. Or ON NATIONAL SONG. wil Or barley- ilieaf, or fait, or bread/ Corone fhall receive, Or clothes or wheat what every one May beft afford to give. Who now bring fait, fome future time, Will honey-combs prepare} For moft Corones tafte delights Such humble, homely fere. Ye fervants, open wide the door, But, hark,- -the wealthy lord Has heard,- his daughter brings the fruit To grace Corones board. Ye gods ! let fuitors come from far, To win the lovely maid j And may me gain a wealthy youth With every grace array'd. Soon may (lie give an infant fon To blefs her fathers arms, And place upon her mothers knee A daughter full of charms. O may me live to fee her ion With every honour crown 'd ; Her daughter, beautys fairett flower, Belov'd by all around : While I, wheree'er my footlteps guide My darken'd eyes along, Chear thofe who give, and who refufe, With all I have a ibng. Thefe men, it feems, were called Coronifa, and their fongs Coroni/mata. There was at Rhodes another fort of beggers, called Ckelidonifta, who carried a fwallow with them, and are mentioned, according to Athenzeus, by Theognis, in his fecond book of the Rhodian iaci ifices, where he fays this manner of fmging, which was in the month of Boedromion (nearly anfwering to our September), was focalledfromthecuftomofexclaiming: " Thefwallow, " the fwallow is come, bringing pleafant feafons, and plea- " fant years, with her white breaft and black back. Why * r do you not prepare cajces of rich figs, and a cop of wine "and xlv A HISTORICAL ESSAr " and a plate of cKeefe and wheat ? -Nor does the fwalloW '* reject the cake of eggs. Muft we go, or fhallwe get any *' thing from you ? You had better give us fomethmg. If " you do* not, we will never let you alone. We will carry " away either the door or the lintel, or the woman who is " fitting within. She is little, we mail eafily carry her " away. If you bring us any thing, let it be fomething " great. Open, open the doors to the fwallow : for we " are not old men, but boys (45).'* 2. ' ' What nature was to the Greeks, the Greeks were to * e the Romans ; as the natives of Greece had no other ex- " ample than nature herfelf to follow, for no nation with " which they had any intercourfe, was learned and po- *' liced before them," is the judicious obfervation of a French author ( 46) . The Romans appear not, however, in the article of fong, to have profited much by the inftruc- tions of their accompliihed teachers. Indeed the hiftory of mufical poetry among this great people is extraordi- narily barren. The inhabitants of Latium, like thofe of all other countries, mufthave poflefled fongs of fomefortor other ; but none of them has had the good fortune to come down to us. Ennius refers their moft ancient fonga to the Fauns, by which, as an ingenious French writer, often quoted, acutely obferves, he has well marked their rural origin. Horace is the only Latin lyric with whofe works we are acquainted. Moft of his odes are real fongs, which he is fuppofed to have fung either at table with his friends, to his miftrefles, or in focieties where men of pleafure ufed to affemble (47). The foldiers had their war- fongs and lampoons, which they fung in triumphs, and on other public occafions, One of the latter, upon Csefar, is noticed by Suetonius. In a war with the Sarmatii, Aurelian, a foldier of for- tune, whofe bravery afterwards raifed him to the purple, Hew, in the fpace of a few hours, with his own hand, 950 of the enemy. This exploit well deferved a fong j (45) Athe, I.S. p. 360. (46) Abbe Gedoyn, Bwney, I, 490. (47) M, du Querlon* and ON NATIONAL SONG. *v and the following was fung by children in the "ftreets : *' We have reaped a thoufand and a thoufand heads; a " thoufand and a thoufand heads thrown to the ground, " have been the work of a fingle man. A thoufand and a ** thoufand times long live the warrior who has made this *' overthrow. No one has drunk fo much wine as he has " fhed blood (48)." Thefondnefs of the Roman youth for fongs and fmging was at one time fo exceffive, that Seneca the rhetorician complains that they fpent their whole time in effeminate attempts to foften their voice, and bring it to the tender and fweet tone of a woman (49). 3.Notwithftanding thedeftru&ion of the Weftern em- pire in Italy, it is natural to believe, that the vulgar fongs of the Romans would be ftill preferved in the mouths of the native inhabitants. During a long fucceeding pe- xiod, i. e. between the fixth and the thirteenth century, which is immerfed in darknefs, barbarifm, and confufiort, we have no information upon this or any other fubjecl. Songs, however, make their appearance as foon as any thing. Dante the poet, who may be faid to have firft cultivated and eftablifhed the Tufcan dialed:, and nearly down to, if not (at leaft in fome places) actually in whofe time the popular tongue appears to have been a corrupt and barbarous Latin (50), was a great fong- writer. As he was one day palling through a ftreet where a crowd had aflembled about an itinerant fong- fter, he had the curiofity to liften, and finding the poetry his own, was fo exafperated at the rude and ig- norant pronunciation of the performer, that he could not refrain from giving him a fevere beating (51). The Ita- lians have ftill a few ballatelle of Dantes age, one of them by that great poet hisfelf. When in purgatory, he has a conference with his friend Cafella, a mufician, whom he prevails on to fing him a favourite love-fong, of his own compofition(52). (48) Vopifcus, as cited by M. de Querlon. (49) M. de Qrlon. (50) Burney, II. $2.$. Barettis Italian Library, ii. xv. f ci) Burney, II, 311, (52) Idem, II. 313. Laura, *vi A HISTORICAL ESSAY Laura, the immortal Laura, amongft her various ad* complifhments, is celebrated by her adorer for the fweet- nefs of her voice, which me difplayed in warbling fongs j fome of them, not improbably, written for her by hisfelf. His fonnets are not, indeed, perfect fongs, but that they were originally fung to certain melodies, is, by a learned writer, feprefented as an indubitable fad (53). The party, defcribed by Boccace as amufing their- felves in the neighbourhood of Florence, during the great plague in 1348, with relating pleafant ftories, chant, at the beginning and end of each day, a canzonet> accompanied by the lute or fome other inftrument; to both of which fome of them likewife dance. Of thefe fongs many are inferted in the Decameron, and others are faid to be ftill extant (54). While this little fociety were thus agreeably employed in the country, large parties within the city thought the beft method of forti- fying theirfelves againft the difeafe was by drinking and finging from morning to night. The Italians ftill preferve a number of fongs upon lore and pleafure, of great antiquity. Thefe were originally defigned to excite and accompany the dance in Carnival time, and at public feftivals, and thence denominated Canzone a ballo. The celebrated, the magrtificent Lorenzo de* Medici, the great patron and encourager of poetry > and letters, the Pulcis, Politian, Giambullari, and other firft rate poets of the fifteenth century, are numbered among the compofers, and even fingers of thefe fongs ; fome of which, it is faid, are not over and above remark- able for delicacy or morals. Italy, however, though the refidence of the mufes, and nurfery of the fine arts, does not boaft of the number and excellence of thefe fmaller lyrics. Devoted to the ottaE Rot/ (60) See Burney, II. 276. There are feveral metrical romances on the fubjeft of Charlemagne of considerable antiquity ftill extant: and feme one of thefe may, poffiblv, beths Cbanftn diRdind. (i) M. de Qaerlan, Again ; ON NATIONAL SONG* xi* Again : " You left many fongs compofed in amourous" " metre, or rime, which, for their exceeding fvveef- nefs, both 'of diftioh and air, kept my name in the mouths of all. . . . You put your Heloife in the mouths of all by your repeated fongs. Me all the ftreets, me every houfe refounded (62)." Whether thefe celebrated compofitions were in Latin or French, we are no where certified. We may, there- for, conjecture them to have been in both. The affection for fongs in the vulgar tongue began firft to mew itsfelf in the provinces. It was fome time before they prevailed in the capital, which continued de- voted to Latin much longer than any other part of the kingdom. The firft fongs were thofe of Normandy, the moft celebrated were thofe of Provence (63)* The moft ancient French fongs were called Lais from the plaintive, or elegiac nature, it is fuppofedj of the competition. The word being conjecturally derived from the Latin Leffus, which fignifies complaints and lamentations. All the old Lais were not, however, of this caft, nor, indeed, is the etymology itsfelf to be haftily admitted, the term being frequently applied to fongs on the moft light and joyous fubjefts. The principal of thefe old Lais now extant are thofe which are introduced into fome of the ancient romances, where they are chanted by heroes or damfels(64). About the beginning of the twelfth century, or per- haps earlier, one may date the origin of the Gay Science, and the eftablimment of the Singing School of Proveilce. Many reafons are affigned for the preeminence which the natives of this province enjoyed over their neighbours* The purity of the air, the beauty of the fky, the delight- fulnefs of the country, the natural fire of the men, the tender fpritelinefs of the women, and the neighbourhood of the courts fcattered over the fouth of France, are enume- (6a) Abelar. Opera. Epif. II. M.TEveque delaRavaillierc. Revolu- tions de la langue Fran. 206. (63) M. 1'E, de la Ravailliere. (64) Idsra. M. deQuerlon. c 2 rated *x A HISTORICAL ESSAY rated among the caufes which contributed to render the fongflers of Provence the admiration of mankind. Under the name of La Jonglerie is comprehended whatever belongs to the Provencal fchool. And of this body three forts of talents (exclufive of the Conteurs, or ftory-tellers, with whom we have at prefent nothing ta do) form the conftituent parts. The Troubadours, the Chanteres, and the Jongleurs. The Troubadours, a name fynonimous with Trouveres, or inventors, ima- gined and compofed the verfes which the Chanteres fung ; except when the Trouvere was likewife an Impro*uifateur t in which cafe he frequently condefcended to ling his own compofitions. The Jongleurs (65), who were as much, fuperior to the other orders in number, as they were in* ferior to them in reputation, were the players on certain mufical inftruments, with which they ufually accompa- nied the Chantere : not but that the Jongleur hisfelf fre* quently united with his own profeffion the peculiar arts of the other two. The individuals of each of thefe claflH founded their reputation and fortune on their particular fldll and merit in the fcience they profeffed ; and to th feafts and tournaments given by the fovereign princes of great lords, they flocked from all parts, everywhere re- ceiving the greateft attention, and the richeft rewards(66), The Troubadours, in point of number, were a confi- derable body. W have the lives of a great many, and the names of fome hundreds. Among them are enumerat- f d two emperors, four kings, one duke, fix earls, and feveral other noble and celebrated chara&ers, who enrolled their- felves members of this illuftrious order. Our Richard I. is a Troubadour of the higheft eminence. Many of hit compofitions both in the Provenjal, and in the Romance, or old French, are ftill preferved. He was bountiful to thefe poets to excefs, and had generally a number of them in his court (67). In (65) Not (quaji ONGLEURS) from tnglet the nails, of which there is no proof that the Jongleurt made any particular ufe ; but (properly 'jfangkurs) from the harmony or jangling of their inftruments in con- cert. Jangkr, F. (66) M. FE.de h Ravailliere. M. de Querlon. (67) A curioui anecdote of ibis gallant monarch and one of his minftrsls ON NATIONAL SONG. xxi In the Vatican library, in a large manufcript of Provea- $al poetry, is a fong upon the death of this prince, by An- /elm Faiditt, a celebrated Troubadour, to whom Petrarch is much indebted for his Triumfo d'amore, and who had ac- companied him to the holy war, with the original melody by that bard, whofe genius was as much admired in ' mufic as in poetry. He married a beautiful nun, who wandered with him from court to court, unging her huf- fcands fongs (68). f*?c~' As a fhort and familiar fpecimen of the Prove^al fong, one may produce that written by the emperor Fredericjk Barbarofla, about the year 1160. Plas my cavallier Frances^ E la donna Catallana, E Tonrar del Gynoes, E la cour de Kaftellana, Lou kantar Provengalles, E la danfa Triyyzana, E lou corps Aragones, E la perla Julliana, aiinftrels is related by Fauchet, on the authority of an old anonymow jFrench chronicler. Richard, in his return from the Holy Land, was taken prifoner by the duke of Auftria, who fold him to the emperor. He was fo clofely and fecretly confined that his fubje&s, for more than a twelvemonth, were unable to difcover where he was. A minftrel, named Blondel de Nefle, who, having been trained up in the English court, had imbibed the ftrongeft affedlion for his royal mafter, took his abfence fo much to heart, that he refolved not to reft till he knew what was become of him. After fome time fpent in travel, he came near a caftle,in which, he was told, a ftrange knight had been imprifoned upwards of a year. This information caufed the trufty minftrel to em- ploy the perfuafive eloquence of his profeflion to gain admittance into the caftle. One day, fitting oppofite a window of the ftrangers apart- ;nent, he began a Provenjal fong, which the king and he had fome- time before compofed together : and, paufing in the midft, the king, who knew it muft be Blondel that fung, began the other half and fmifhed it. The mufician having thus obtained the knowlege he wanted, returned to England, and mak.ng the barons acquainted with the place of their fovereigns confinement, he was foon after ranfomed, and brought home. The fong itfelf is fortunately preferved. Recucll ie rorigine de la langut f foejit Franfoife. Parit, 1581. p. 93. l,a tour tenebreufe, ice. Paris 1705. Percys Reliques, I. xxix. (68)Burney, JI,4i.whreboththefongandthemuficarepreferved. c 3 Las xxii A HISTORICAL ESSAY Las mans e karad' Angles E lou donzel de Thulcana. (69) The Troubadours feem to have poffefled a great affec- tion for agreeable piftures of nature, the relation of pleafmg dreams, and other fanciful and amourous alle- gories. Chaucers Cuckow and Nightingale, Flower and Leaf (fo beautifully modernifed by mr. Dryden), andfome other of his poems, are quite in the Prove^al mode, and, not improbably, from Proven9al compofitions. But it was not to the men alone that the cultivation of this enchanting art was confined ; ladies of the firft rank became profefibrs of the Gay Science, and piqued themfelves on making verfes, and giving an elegant or pointed turn to a fong. They, likewife, held Courts of Love, where they determined thofe nice queflions, which the Provencal gallantry had brought into vogue. Their judgements were termed Arrets d" 1 amour ^ fen- tences of love. Of thefe the countefs of Champagne had pronounced feveral, and, amongft them, one in a celebrated parliament compofedof fixty ladies (70). An appeal againit a decifion of this fair judge was brought before the Queen of France : " God forbid," faid the C^ueen, as foon as me had heard the complaint, " God " forbid, that I mould meddle with a decree of the *' countefs of Champagne !" On the death of Raimond Berenger, the laft count of Provence, of his family, in 1245, the court was removed to Naples, and the Gay Science began to decline. Its profeffors had likewife the misfortune to incur the dif- pleafure of Philip the Auguft, who banimed them his court andeftates. In 1320, however, a college or academy of poetry was founded atTouloufe. The poets recited their com- pofitions every Sunday evening, in a garden of the city ; (69) That is: I am bed pleafed with the French gentleman, the Catalan girl, the ( perhaps ovror, work) of the Genoefe, the court of Caftile, the Provenjal fong, the dance of Treves, the Ar- ragonian fhape, the Juliers fpeech, the hands and fare of the Englifh, and the boy of Tufcany. See Duverdier, Bibliotheque. Lyons, 1585. p. 423. Rjmer,Short View of Tragedy, p. 75. (70) M, dp QuerJon, ON NATIONAL SONG. xxiii and flowers of gold or illver were given by the ladies to thofe who excelled (71). This eftablifhment flourifhed a confiderable time. And fome Troubadours and fome Jongleurs are faid to have remained fo low as the fif- teenth century. The Gay Science, under the counts of Provence, af- forded an eafy mode for a man to enrich hisfelf, and even to acquire honours and employments. It, likewife, gave great privileges ; and, in courts, with the ladies, frequently leveled the difparity of rank. At one time there was fcarce a great lord or lady who had not fome Troubadour in their fuite(7z). A gentleman, who had only the fourth part of a caftle, if, with the requifite talents, he became a Troubadour, was foon in a capacity of acquiring the reft. Indeed this fort of life was frequently the whole fortune of a younger brother. It was an agreeable pilgrimage, or continual promenade. He went from houfe to houfe, from caftle to caftle, always welcomed, and entertained according to his merit (73). Many of the Troubadours followed their lords to the wars. Where we have inftances of their being knighted, and arriving to extraordinary honours and prefer- ments (74). They received confiderable prefents of fluffs, robes, horfes, &c. Kings and queens would fometimes pull off their fineft veftments to give to a Troubadour of extra- ordinary genius ; who made his appearance in them at the next court he came to. The ladies were now and then content to crown their favourites with peacocks fea- thers ; and, frequently, the price of the beft fong was a kifs, which the poet generally claimed from the greateft beauty prefent (75). The Troubadour, amourous by profeffion, ufually con- cealed the name of his miitrefs with care, and fung her praifes under an appellation agreed on between them, or which he took care me underftood. The gallantries in* (71) M. deQuerlon. (72) Idem. (73) Idem. (74) Idem. (75) M. de Sainte-Palaye, M. de Querlon, c 4 tended jouv A HISTORICAL ESSAY tended for the wife were, likewife, not unfrequently, ad. dreffed to the hufband(76), Thefe gentlemen did not, how-, ever, always worfhip terreftrial deities ; Fclquet de Lunel profeffed -hisfelf an admirer of the Virgin Mary, and celebrated her as his miftrefs in his fongs and poems. Arnaud Daniel, a diftinguifhed Troubadour, who is imitated by Petrarch, and praiied by Dante, was ena- moured of a beautiful Gafcon lady. To gain her good traces, he tells us, he heard a thoufand maffes a day ; ut his moft extravagant \vifh centered 'in a kifs of her fweet mouth (7 7). It mull be confeffed that the lives of thefe poets abound with the marvellous ; and differ very little from Romance. But then it is to be remembered that this was the age of Chivalry, Many of them died of love. Geoffrey Rudel, upon the relation of two Pil-r grinas, became defperately enamoured of a countefs of Tripoli ; he flew to fee her, and, with an excefs of fond-, nefs, expired in her arms. One of the fongs he compofed in his paffage is ftill extant (78). The princefs was fo affefted with the circumftance that, after having ordered him to be fumptuously interred, and his fonnets to be finely copied and illuminated, me buried herfelf in a jiunnery. Guillaume de Cabeflan, the defcendant of an an- cient family, of which gentility was the fole inheri- tance, was page to Raimond, lord of the caftle of Roufr lillon, who afterwards made him gentleman uiner to his wife Marguerita. This lady became enamoured of Oabeftan ; but her vanity, greater than her love, in r duced her to mew his poetical addreffes to her hufband. Raimond, mad with jealoufy, drew Cabeftan to a dif- tance from the caftle, ftabbed him, tore out his heart, an4 cut off his head : he got the heart dreffed, and having perfuaded his lady to eat it,produced the head, to acquaint her with what me had done. As foon as me revived from the fwoon into which the difcovery threw her, me up- (76) M. de Querlen. (77) Idem< (78) Rymer, p. 71. braided ON NATIONAL SONG. xf braided Raimond for his barbarity, and declared that what (he had eaten was fo delicious that ihe was deter- mined never to lofe the tafte of it by any other food t fhe immediately flew to a balcony, and, precipitating herfelf to the ground, was killed on the fpot. The cruelty of Raimond appeared fo horrible in the eyes of that age, that Alphonfo king of Arragon was induced to throw him into prifon and raze his caftle. He like- wife caufed the two lovers to be interred together near the church of Perpignun, and the flory of their loves, which has been pronounced worthy of the pencil of Ovid (79), to be engraven on the tomb. The hillory of Cabeftan is related, with fome variation, in the De- cameron. (Gior. 4. No. g.) One of thefe Troubadours, Pierre de Chateauneuf, was feized by robbers, who, after they had ftripped him, were about to take his life : he befought them, for Gods fake, to hear firit one of his fongs ; and the villains were fo charmed with it, that they reftored him all they had taken (80). Many remains of the poetry of the Prove^al bards are ftill preferved in manufcript ; of thefe the late Mr. Crofts, whofe memory will be ever dear to thofe who en- joyed the honour and happinefs of his acquaintance, and in whom literature loft one of its beft friends, and hu manity one of its greateft ornaments, had a confiderable volume. It has been advanced " that the Troubadours, by tinging and writing a new tongue, occafioned a revo- lution not only in literature but in the human mind; and [that] as almoft every fpecies of Italian poetry is derived from the Prove^als, fo AIR, the moft cap- tivating part of fecular vocal melody, feems to have hid the fame origin. At lealt [that] the moft an- cient {trains that have been fpared by time, are fuch as were fet to the fongs of the Troubadours (8) )." The hiftory of thefe people is fo exceedingly curious, agreeable and intereiting that it has totally eciipfed that (79) M. de querlon. (80) Jdena, (81) Burney, II. 133. xxvi A HISTORICAL ESSAY of the French Minftrels, who, doubtlefs, as a body, e>:- ifted fome time before, and continued long after the Troubadours ; but are by no means to be confidered as fuch an extraordinary or refpedlable fet of men. They poffefled, however, in a certain degree, the fame talents of pleafing ; they fung, either their own compofitions, or the compofitions of others, to the harp, the vielle, viol, cymbal, and other inftruments, danced to the labour, played tricks of legerdemain and buffoonry, and, in fhort, accommodated theirfelves to every mode of infpi- ring feftivity and mirth : fo that they were every where welcome, and every where rewarded. The courts of France abounded with them : and, during the reign of -our Norman princes, they feem to have been no lefs nu- merous in England. Many of our old monkifh hifto- rians complain of the fhoals of Minftrels which a coro- nation or royal feftival allured to the Englifli court. But though it is certain that the French had fongs be- fore the Provencal poetry was known, it is equally cer- tain that their beft writers were afterwards content to imitate the Troubadours ; who may, therefor, be ftill confidered as the founders of the French Song. Of thofe who compofed fongs in the French tongue, and, as we need not repeat, in the Proven9al mode, the moft celebrated, and probably the firft, at leaft of any rank or confequence, is the famous Count of Cham- pagne, Thibaut, afterwards king of Navarre (82), ge- nerally ftiled the father of the French fong. His compo- fitions, which are numerous, and pofTefs abundant merit, have been printed with accuracy and elegance (83). Specimens, with fpirited translations, are given by the ingenious dr. Burney in the fecond volume of his very curious and entertaining hiftory. The names and performances of feveral illuftrious French fong writers of the age of Thibaut are ftill pre- ferved. We mail, however, only mention one of them j Raoul, chatelatn de Coucy, contemporary and intimate (82) Born in 1201; dyed in 1253 or 1254. (83) In two volumes, izmo. Paris, 1742. with ON NATIONAL SONG. xxvli with that monarch, and equally celebrated for his poetry and his love. He adored the lady of the feigneur of Fayel with a chaffe Platonic affeftion, and had his paffion returned in the fame ftile. Having received a mortal wpund in an engagement with the Saracens at the fiege of Rhodes (84), he made his faithful fquire fvvear to carry his heart to the miftrefs of his affections. The fquire was furprifed, near the caftle, by the feigneur ; and the heart of the unfortunate chatelain experienced the fame treatment, and produced the fame effeil which that of the troubadour Cabeftan had done. We have this affefting ftory, but doubtlefs from the French, in an old poem of Henry the Eighths time, under the title of The Knight of Curtefy and the Lady of Faguel. Several of his Chanfons are ftill extant. They are remarkably tender, elegant and pathetic. Dr. Burneyhas inferted two of them, with their original melodies (85). The works of many of the old French poets or minftrels are yet preferved. Fauchet has given a lilt of no lefs than 127, moftly fong writers, who flouriflied before the year 1300. Song continued to be cultivated in France in every reign, and through all the national convulfions. From the time of Francis I. who revived the ancient fplen- dour of the French court, the number of eminent fong- fters feems to have encreafed : but it will not be ne- ceffary, in this treatife, to take particular notice of them. One may, however, mention that both Francis and his grandfon Charles IX. are in the lift. In which we are likewife author! fed to rank that amiable, ac- (84) So the romance. Fauchet, who has given the ftory from an old chronicle, fjys, it \va at the fiege of Maflbure. La, fays Join- ville, fut tut h comte (TArtoii & lejire de Cwcy qu\n apdloit Raoul. This, however, feems to have been a predeceffor of Raoul the poet, as the affair of MafToure, although placed by Fauchet in 1249, ac- tually happened in 1 191. (85) The Coucys appear to have been always eminently attached t fong: Engueran, who was in England in the time of K. John, and dyed in 12^0, Jsnfoit cS? cbantolt bun, Froiflart, t. I. c. 219. (M. 1'E. de la Ravailliere.) complifhcd, xxviii A HISTORICAL ESSAY complifhed, and, thence, unfortunate princefs, Mary Queen of Scots. One of her performances is preferred in the Anthohgie, and breathes a delicacy and elegance peculiar to its illuftrious author. The following tranfla- tion of it, in the original meafure, is given, chiefly, as a fpecimen of the French Song, which delights in a pointed and epigrammatic turn. It appears to have been written when me left France on the death of her firil hulband/ Francis II. Ah! pleafant land of France, farewell $ My country dear, Where many a year Of infant youth I lov'd to dwell ! Farewell for ever, rnppy days ! The fhip which parts our loves conveys But half of me -.One half behind I leave with thee, dear France, to prov$ A token of our endlels love, And bring the other to thy mind. We mail now clofe our account of the French Song. The age of Lev/is XIV. improved it along with every thing elfe. But it is faid to have declined fince, and to be at prefent far unequal to what it was. The fpirited and judicious author fo often cited in the margin haj enumerated and charafterifed moft of the writers of celebrity or merit from the fixteenth century to nearly his own time. The number of fongs and ballads which the French have is prodigious. " If it were poffible," fays this very ingenious and elegant writer, " to collect all thehiftorical fongs written fince the commencement of the monarchy, under each reign, we ihould be furniflied with the moft curious and rich collection of anecdotes. In proportion as the French language has been formed, poiimed and enriched, the more has poetry been cultivated with us, the more has Song (a fpecies fo agreeable to our natural gaiety, and moreover within every perfons ca- pacity, if not always the moft eafy) become familiar to us. Thus the reign of Lewis XIV. mould have produced, as it certainly did produce, more fongfters f and ON NATIONAL SONG. xxk ** and fongs than all the other reigns. One might " form a library with the hiftorical fongs only, of which tf there are, in the cabinets, collections more or lefs nu- " merous. With refpeft to gallant and Bacchanaliaa " fongs, printed, engraved or in manufcript, we are loft " in the number of the volumes. aps tempt. Since the birth of our princes, which fom* " chanting mufes always take care to celebrate, few of *' the tranfadlions of their life kn6wn to the public pais *' without fome couplet which makes an epocha, and " thefe couplets are the medals of that clafs of the cu- *' rious who form colle&ions or port folios. *' In time of war there is no battle won or loft with- " out a Vaudeville ; the Frenchman fmgs his conquefts, '* his profperity, his defeats, even his naiferies, and his " misfortunes. Conquering or conqutred, in plenty " or in want, happy or unhappy, forrowful or gay, " he always iings ; and one would fay that the fong is " his natural expreflion. In fine, in all iituations in " which we would fpeak of the French, we might al- " ways afk, as the late king of Sardinia did : Well! boi " goes the little fong ?" 5. Spain has been long and juflly famous for the multiplicity and excellence of her fongs and ballads, which the natives call Canciones, Romances, and Capias. Their moft ancient lyric compofitions, atprefent known, are Las coplas dela zarabanda, common vulgar fongs, of an amourous, fatyrical or jocofe turn, to light quick movements ; originally no doubt ufed for the dance, and generally fung at weddings, feafts, and other convivial meetings. Thefe, which are conjectured to be as old as even the twelfth century (86), anfwer to the Canzone a ballo of the Italians : and it is certain that this was the primitive ufe of poetry and mufic in all countries. (86) P. Sarmiento, Memorias para la hiftoria dc la poefia, y faetas Efpan'oles. Madrid, 1775, Ato. p. 230. The xxx A HISTORICAL ESSAY The Span iards had anciently their Decidores or Trola* dares, their Copleros and their Juglares, all Signifying a maker, and, perhaps, finger of fongs by profeffion. They likewife called the poetical art la gala ciencia. For this laft name, at leaft, they feem to have beert indebted to the French. Toward the end of the fourteenth century, John I. king of Arragon fent am- bafladors to the king of France, requefting him to com- mand the college of Troubadours at Touloufe to furnifh him with certain profcflbrs, that he might eftablifti in his dominions the ftudy of the Gay Science : of fuch na- tional importance were in thofe days confidered the culti- vation and improvement of poetry and fong! Two of this body were accordingly difpatched to Barcelona, where they formed a new confiftory for their favourite art, which remained till the death of Martin the fucceflbr of John (87). Donluigo Lopez de Mendoza, Marquis de Santa Jul- liana(88), in a curious treatife on the origin andhiltory of the Caftilian poetry, written about the year 1440, nientions, as an excellent compofer, and admirable mu- fician, of his own time, one Mo/en (Don or Mailer) Jorge de Sant Jorde, a Valencian, the author of a poem, intitled la Pa/ion de Amor, in which he had in- troduced many fongs of merit, fome of which were, then, very ancient (89). He defcribes another as un gran Trcbador, and a perfon of a highly elevated fpirit. (87) Idem, .770. This learned writer would not perhaps hava allowed the juftice of the above inference. He contends (. 764.) that Lyric poetry, having been introduced ito Spain by the Moors, traveled through Catalonia into Provence ; whence it afterwards re- turned (as mentioned in the text), by the way of Touloufe, to Bar- celona, and thence pafied into Andalucia and the Cafliles, where it had firft fet out. (88) Vulgarly Santlllana, a brave cavalier, and a famous poet j born 1398; dyed 1458. (89) The reverend mr. Warton, in his Htflory of Englt/h Poetry, a work replete with errors and mifinformation, gives this poet the name of MeJJ'tn Jordi, and afletts him to have been imitated by Petrarch ; without recollefting the difficulty which the latter muft bm ON NATIONAL SONG. xxxl fpirit. A third, of whom he likewiie fpeaks, was reported to have died in Galicia for the love of a prin- cefs of Portugal (90) : a fpecies of misfortune which fre- quently happened to the Troubadours of Provence. He even inferts the beginning of one of the love fongsof a certain amourous bard whocompofed nothing elfe (91), and gives the names and characters of feveral other poets and Declares, diftinguifhed, no doubt,in that age, by their celebrity and merit. Songs by many of thefe, moft, qr all, perhaps, ancient Coplars, are, with great probability, to be -found among the many thousands preferved in the Can- cionero and Romancero general, and other collections of the fame nature, of which there are feveral volumes, fome very bulky. The old compofers of the Romances and Capias thought it fufEcient to ufe a certain limited number of feet or fylla- bles, refembling the rythmus of the Greek and Latin poets. When rime or a correfpondent termination of particular lines was required, it feems to have been enough if the. final words agreed in the fame vowels, the confonants being entirely difregarded. A practice which is ftill adopted as good rime by the modern inventors of thefe popular performances (92). Numberlefs are the ballads which the Spaniards have on the ftory of Charlemagne and the twelve peers of Prance ; of Bernardo del Carpio ; their laft Gothic king Rodrigo ; the Cid, and others of their ancient heroes ; but particularly on Moorifh fubjects, and the conflicts between thofe people and the Spanifh cavaliers. A beau- tiful fpecimen, excellently tranflated by bifhop Percy, have been under to copy from a writer not born till after his deceafe. The direct reverfe is the fact : Mofen Jorge was the imitator of Pc trarch. (90) Sarmiento, p. 153, 154, zaz. (91) Sarmiento, p. 155. (gz) Idem, p. j jz. In the Obras Je Don Lt/i: de Gcngwa (Flncem* f arable Don Louis de Gongora, It plus beau genie que I'Efpagne aitjamait fredu'rt), Bruf. 1659. 410. are numerous fpecimens of Romance wri- ting, and indeed of every other fpecies f Sf anifli poetry, fcodi A HISTORICAL ESSAY is inferted in the Reliques of ancient Englijk Poetry (y^." The earlieft of thefe compositions is thought to be las Coplas de Calainos. This romance relates the adventure of a certain Arab, fo called, an officer of the great Al- manzor, who, to gain that prince's daughter, fets out, at her command, to fetch the heads of Rowland, Oliver, and Reynold, the three moil famous and valiant of the twelve peers of France : he is met, near Paris, by a champion, who cuts off his head and prefents it to Charlemagne (94). But even this can fcarcely be older than the latter part of the fifteenth century ; when the conqueft of Granada furnifhed the Spanilh poets with a favorable opportunity to exult over the vanquiflied Moors ; and when Pulci and Boiardo had familiarifed the ftory of the Paladins'. Moft of thefe romances are pre- ferved in the collections already mentioned, and all of them are prodigious favourites with the common people, who have numbers by heart, which they are perpetually chanting (95). Sarmiento, a fag.icious and intelligent writer, is of Opinion, that fome few years after the time of the twelve peers, of Bernardo del Carpio, the Cid, and others, various romances were compofed in their praife ; and were thofe which the Copleros t 'Trobadores, and "Juglares, and, in fhort, all the lower clafs of people, fung at their feafts. The greateft part of thefe, he thinks, not having been committed to writing, were in time loft; and fuch as were preferved by memory and oral tradition were after- wards fomuch altered, when people begun to write them (93) I- 3 37- beginning Rio -verde, no vsrdt. Ilegantly rendered Gentle river, gentle river. Though the ingenious translator did not, it fecms, then know that Rioverdt is, in this inftance, a proper name. (94) Sarmiento, p. 232. (95) Will not the reader immediately recollect the peafant wh pafle> Don Quixote and his trufty fquire, in the ftreets of Tobofo, tantando aquel Romance que dize ; mala la buityes Fratieefet, en ej/a de Ronctf-vaksi and the curious con^erfatjon which eofues thereon. (P. a, c, 9 .) in ON NATIONAL SONG. xxxiii in modern Caftilian, that they could not poffibly re- femble their originals in language, though they would undoubtedly continue the fame in fubftance. This, he fays, becomes evident, when it is considered that the Chronic a general de E/pan'a, written about the middle of the thirteenth century, and other books of the fame an- tiquity, frequently cite the fongs and fayings of the Jug- lars or vulgar poets of that, or a preceding age. He, therefor, concludes, 'that, though the Romances now extant were not written before the end of the fifteenth century, moftof them were then only altered or modern- ifed from the compofitions of the twelfth (96). An idea which one would more readily have adopted if the good fa- ther had produced or referred to a fingle line upon the ftory of Charlemagne or the Paladins prior to the firft of thofe jeras. This objection, however, it muft be confefled, does not extend to the fongs or ballads upon other fub- jefts, many of which may undoubtedly be much older(97). Some of thefe romance's or popular ballads are fre- quently cited or alluded to in Don Quixote ; but the tranf- lators have uniformly confounded them with books of chivalry, which the word never iignines in Spanim. A more literal and correct verfion of this admirable hiflory, of which a very elegant and curious edition was lately pub- limed at Madrid, has long been, and is likely enough to remain, among the dejiderata of Englifh literature. The ruftics of Spain, like the Improvifatori of Italy, retain, to this day, the talent of extemporal poetry ; and fing, as it were, by infpiration (98). In Galicia (96) . 548, 550. (97) In the ancient romance of TIRANT LO BLANCH, written, in the Valencian dialeft, before the year 1460, Hippolito, the emprefses gallant, prays her, one day, as they are fitting together, to fing him a fong. To pleafe him, therefor, /he fings, in a low voice, " vn " romanf . . . . de trijiany co fe planyia de la lambada del rey march'" 'a lay or fong of Triftan, in which he complains of the blow of a lance he had received from king Mark. This was, doubtlefs, fome well known Spanifli ballad of the authors time; and is reprefented to have been fo tender that Hippolito could not refrain from tears; " ab la dulfordtl, ' cant, deflillaren deli feus tills -v iues lagremes" (Capitol, cclxiiij.) (98) See a moft curious and entertaining account of ne of thofc gemufes (a muleteer) in Barrettis Journey through Spain, VOL, II. d the xxxiv A HISTORICAL ESSAY the womenarenotonlypoets but rfiuficians, and compofe as well the fongs, which are generally dialogues between a woman and a mail (the female being always the principal perfonage) as the melodies or tunes to which they would have them fung ; and this by pure nature, without the leaft idea of the mufical art (99). The poetry and poets of this province appear to have enjoyed a diftinguimed pre-eminence from the moft remote antiquity. Portugal, which is here noticed only as a province of Spain, claims a very early and intimate acquaintance with the Lyric mufe. To prove it there are two Cancioneros or collections extant, which contain many fongs of great an- tiquity and merit. Some of thefe are by K. Dionyfius, who dyed in 1325. This prince was grandfon to Alonfo the Wife, king of Caftile, who was likewife an eminent poet. A few others are by Peter I. who dyed in 1 3 6 7 . The whole number of poets whofe compofitions are prefer ved in thefe volumes is faid to be immenfe. Both are exceffively rare. The lively genius and fpirit which appear to have chara&e- rifed the ancient Portuguefe, are not, however, at pre- fent viable among their defcendants. But, without fur- ther notification of the provinces orjeras in which postry and fong appear to have been moft cultivated, popular and fuccefsful in this romantic country, it may be fuffi cient to adopt the words of the excellent writer fo often quoted : at. ASSERIUS, (edi, 1722) p. 160. Again .'Rex inter bella, &c. Saxcaicos librc,s recitare, & maxlme carmna Saxonica mcmcriter difcere t (tins imperare, & folus ajjidue pro vinbus, Jiudic/iffin.e nondefinebat, p. 43* (120) In a MS. of the Cotton library, an old chronicler, describing the batile of .Agincourt, is feized with a poetic furor, and infenfibly runs his narrative into a kind of fong or poem. Perhaps this method, of which there are many other inftances, might be adopted as more eaiy or captivating for public recitation, feaft, xliv A H I S T O R I C A L ESSAY feaft, was fo much delighted at hearing the monks chant their hours, that he is faid, " in the joy of his heart," infpired with a fort of poetic rapture, to have broke out into a fong of which the following lines, all that is preferred, are the firft ftanza : the only fpecimen, per- haps, now remaining of the Saxon vulgar fong, though the lines mould, in fadl, feem to have come rather from the monks than from the king. (Dejiie jnin^en fce CDunechej- binnen Gly. fca Cnut chins neu fceri by. fiopefc enitef noeji the lant. ant> her* pe bep QDunechej- r* n S ("0. That is : The monks in Ely Aveetly lung Whilft Cnute the king there row'd along ; Row near the land, knights, [quoth the king] And let us hear the fong they fing. We are not without fufficient evidence that the commom people had their favourite fongs, though none of them has had the good fortune to defcend to us. Ingulphus mentions ballads in praife of Hereward, the Saxon hero, who fo ga.lantly oppofed and harrafled the Conqueror, which were fung about the ftreets in his time (122). And William of Malmefbury, in his hiftory, refers to ' ' Cantilena perfuc cejfiones temp arum detritte, ' ' wh ich were, no doubt, in the vulgar tongue (123) : and, elfewhere, notices a Carmen triviale of Aldhelm, who dyed in 709, and whom king Alfred has pronounced without an equal in Englilh poetry, as adbuc 'vulgo cantitatum ( 1 24). Other old and popular rimes, ' ' concerning Gryme, the fifher, (121) Benthams Hiilory of Ely, p. 94. It may, from this little piece, be conjectured, that rime had been introduced by the Danes: certain it is, that no rimed poetry of the earlier Saxons is now to be found. Their poetic mode confifts in fliort fentences in a pompous and affeted fiile : the words uncommon, frequently jingling together, and thrown out of their natural order. Indeed it is not always eafy to diftin- guifh between their poetry and their profe, (122) Hif. Croy. p. 68. Tyrwhitts Chaucer, IV. 63. (113) Tyrwhitt, IV, 46. (U4) Idem, Ibi. " the ON NATIONAL SONG. xlv " the founder of Grymefby, Hanelock the Dane, and *' his wife Goldeburgh, daughter to king Athelwold," are mentioned by Robert of Brunne (125) : of all which, though none of them is, certainly, now retrievable, w cannot but regret the lofs. It is not unreafonable to attribute the fuppreffion of the romantic poems and popular fongs of the Saxons, to the monks, who feem*not only to have refufed to commit them to writing, which few others were capable of doing, but to have given no quarter to any thing of the kind which fell into their hands. Hence it is, that, except th Saxon chronicle, and a few other hiftorical fragments, together with many of their laws, and a number of charters, deeds, &c. all which are to be fure of fome confequence, we have little or nothing original, in the language, but lying legends, glofles, homilies, charms, and fuch-like things, which evidently (hew the people, from their converfion, at leaft, to have been gloomy, fu- perftitious, and prieft-ridden. What advantages Chrif- is not, perhaps, at this diftance of time, altogether fo eafy to be difcovered. Having got below the Conqueft, we are now to com- mence our view of Englifh fong. But, however intereft- ing an enquiry into this fubject maybe to ourfelves, we are not here to expect the full and fatisfadlory information fo eafily obtained on the ancient finging poetry of the Greeks and the French. Materials are very fcanty, and the purfuit almoft, if not altogether, new. The Saxon language continued to be fpoken by the old inhabitants for near a century and a half after their fub- duftion, but, by a rapid, though, doubtlefs, gradual corruption, from an intermixture of Norman words, and the adoption of Norman idioms and modes of fpeak- ing, we may, in fome, probably the earlyer part of the long and turbulent reign of Henry III. pronounce k to (115) Tyrwhitt, IV, 46, have xlvi A HISTORICAL ESSAY have dyed a \iolent death ; the written dialeft we meet toward the end of his time, being efTentially a different tongue : from this uncertain period, therefor, we date the birth and eftablimment of the Englifh language. Before we proceed further, the reader may not be dif- pleafed with a rather curious paffage in an ancient writer, relative to the vulgar mode df finging in his own time, the age of king Henry II. In general, fays he, there is 'not the leaft uniformity in mufical modulation. Every man lings his own long, and, in a croud of fingers, as is the cuftomhere, fo many perfons as you fee, fo many fongs and various voices will you hear. In the nor- thern parts, on the confines of Yorkfhire, the na- tives, he tells us, ufed a fymphoniac harmony with two different tones. One finging the under part of the fong in a low voice, the other the upper part in a voice equally foft and delighting : and this not fo much, he fays, by art as ufe and nature : children, and even infants in the cradle, obferving the fame kind of modulation. This praftice, altogether peculiar to theie people, he fuppofes them to have acquired from the Danes and Norwegians who had fettled or refided in thefe parts ( 1 26) . Later writers, however, incline to believe that they had learned it from the method obferved in chanting the fervice by the monks of Wearmouth in the biihopric of Durham. The moft ancient EngJilh fong now extant is one in praife of the cuckoo, a favourite fubjecl, in every age, both with poets and muficians. This great curiofity, for befides that the words theirfelves are far from being inele- gant, they are accompanied with a very mafterly mufical compofition for fix voices, in the nature of a catch, is preferved in a fine old MS. in the Harleian library, and is, by fir John Hawkins and dr. Burney, both of whom have inferted it in their refpeftive works, referred to about the middle of the fifteenth century (i 27). But the rea- (iz6) Giraldus Catnbrenfis, as quoted by Hawkins and Burney. (127^ Mr. Warton has (but without the leaft acknowledgement) followed fir John Hawkins, and confcquently involyed hisfelf in the fame miftake, foning ON NATIONAL SONG. xivii toning of thefe two learned and ingenious gentlemen on the fubjecl is as inconclulive, as their judgement is errone- ous. There cannot be a doubt that the manufcript is two hundred years older ; *. e. of the latter part of the reign cf Henry III. The fong will fpeak for itsfelf : Svmer if icumen in. Lhude fing cuccu. GroweJ* fed and blowe}> nwd And fpringb be wde nu, Sing cuccu Awe blete}? after lomb. Lhoub after calue cu. Bulluc fterteb. Bucke uerteb. Murie fing cuccu. *." Cuccu cuccu Wei fingef bu cuccu Ne fwik bu nauer nu (laS). In the enfuing reign we are fortunately enabled to pro- ceed with greater certainty and fuccefs. In the Britifh Mufeum is a large folio book, written by the hand of fbme Norman fcribe, about the beginning of the time of Edward II. and containing a variety of fongs and poems, by different authors, both in French and Englifh, chiefly, as it mutt feem, of the preceding reign. Moft of thefe pieces are of an amourous or fatyrical turn, and many of them, for fo remote an age, not deftitute of merit. The libel on Richard, king of the Romans, printed by Percy in his Reliques of ancient Englijh Poetry, is from this collection : from whence, likewife, Warton, in the firft vo- lume of his hiftory, has made feveral extrafts ; which, how- ever, are very inaccurate. It likewife includes an abufive ballad againft the Scots ; and another againft the French, on the infurreftion at Bruges in 1301. As a fpecimeii (iz8) i e. Summer is come in ; loud fmgs the cuckoo: now the feed grows, and the mead blows (/'. e. is in flower), and the wood fpriags. The ewe bleats after the lamb ; the calf lows after the cow j the bullock ftarts, the buck verts (i. e. goes to harbour in the fern) } mer- rily fings the cuckoo, Well lingcft thou, cuckoo. Myft thou never ceafe. xlviii A HISTORICAL ESSAY of the language and poetic manner of this early period, we (hall infert the firft verfe of " a fong in praife of tf the authors miftrefs, whofe name was Alyfoun." Bytuene merfh & aueril When fpray bigmneb to fp"nge Jrc lutel foul hab hire wyl On hyre lud ro fynge Ich libbe in loue longmge For femlokeft of alle bynge He may me bhfle bnnge Icham in hire bandoun An hendy hap ichabbe yhent Ichot from heuene it is me fent From alle wymmen m loue is lent Andlyhr on Alyfoun (129). The four laft lines make the burthen of the three remain- ing ftanzas. Of nearly the fame age, in another manufcript, we have " a fong in praife of the valiant knight fir Piers de *' Birmingham, who, while he lived, was a fcourge to " thelrifh, and died A. D. 1288." But it is very long, and has little merit. During the reign of Edward III. Chaucer confiderably improved and polifhed both our language and our poetry. He is, undoubtedly, a writer of great genius, and, aj- moft, the firft Englifh poet worth naming. In the CAN- TERBURY TALES, and, indeed, throughout his works, are numberlefs allufions to the ftate of the mufic and fong of his age (130). But few, perhaps, if any, of thofe numerous (129) Between March and April, when the branches begin to fpring, the little birds indulge their inclination to ling in their lan- ' guage. I live in the longings of love, for the feemlieft of all creatures. She may bring me happinefs. I am in her bonds. I have obtained a happy lot. I wot [believe] it is fent me from heaven. My love has left all other women, and is alighted upon Alifcn. (i 30^ For inftance, the Pardoner fings " Come hither, love, to me :" while the fompnour (fummoner or apparitor) bears him a ftiff burdoun," . e. fings the bafe. This was, doubtlefs,fome favourite Cong at that time, As \vas, likewife, it fhould feem " The Kinges ' Note," ON NATIONAL SONG. xlix numerous fongs, which he exprefsly tells us hecompofed, and for the compofition of which he teftifies fo much pe- nitence (131), feem to have come down to us j unlefs the rondeau printed by Percy, beginning Your two eyn will fle me fodenly, mould happen to be one of them. His ballades may, in- deed, have been fung, but they are certainly no fongs. Of the reign of Richard II. there is no fong known to be extant. A manufcript in the Cotton library, of the time of his ufurping fucceflbr, contains a farcaftic ballad upon the execution, as it mould feemyfof John Holland, duke of Exeter, whom the author calls " Jac *' Nape," and for whofe foul he makes th reft of *' note," which is elfewhere mentioned *. Abfalon, the all-accom- pliflied parifli clerk, is celebrated for his Ikill in mufic ; In twenty manere could he trip and dance, And playen SONGES on a fmal ribible -f Thereto he fong fom time a loud quinible J And as wel coude he play on a giterne (j, Seci Nay, ourjocofe author has even preferved the very fong whicfc tbU amourous youth performed in one of his nocturnal ferenadei. He fingetK in his vois gentil and fmal j Now, dere lady, if thy wille be, I pray you that ye wol rewe on me j Ful wel accordant to his giterning. Nor does the mincing Wife of Bath forget to tell ui, Tho coude I dancen to an harpe fmale And SING ywis as any nightingale. And from apaflage in the Priorefses Tale it fliould appear that " TO " SINGEN" was as much an eftablifhed branch of the education of " fmale children" as " to rede." (131) " and many a SONG, and many a IKCHXBOUS IAY, " Crift of his grete mercie foryeve me the Cnne." RXTRAC. C. T (jji. ^^^.) And after that he fong the k'mges note-, Ful often hlefled was his mery throte. M. T. t A rebec, or kino &f fiddle with three itrings. } At.tr.:. tiii) || A guitar or citero, VOL. II. e the 1 A HISTORICAL ESSAY the confpirators, by name, fmg " Placebo & Jirige" It begins, In the moneth of May, when gaffe growe)> grene, and is accompanied by another, againft the Lollards, of the fame age. Henry V. forbad his fubjedts to extol his victory at Agincourt : but they either had already begun to chant triumphal fongs, or were not deterred by the prohibition j for one of thefe pieces, with the original muiic, is luckily preferved to us, and has been frequently printed (132). The reign of Henry VI. is an a^ra of great confequence in the poetical annals of this country ; not fo much, in- deed, from the excellence, as from the magnitude and multiplicity of its metrical productions. The works of Lydgate, monk of Bury, alone, are nearly fufficient to load a waggon. His balladts are numerous ; but we find no- thing which we can call a fong ; except a fort of " roun- " dell" previous to the coronation of Henr.y the Sixth, which is not worth inferting here. But Dan John, like moft of the other profefled poets of that age, laboured too much with a leaden pen, in what was then thought a fo- lemn and ftately ftanza (rytbme royal), to be a good writer of fongs. Thefe were chiefly compofed by anony- mous and ignorant rimers, fortheufeof the vulgar, and k is by mere accident that any of them have been pre- ferved. It muft, indeed, beconfefled that moft of thofe which remain poflefs very little merit, befides that of exhibiting the ftate of the art at the time in which they were written. Though a collection of fuch things, rude and fimple as they are, would by no means prove either unworthy of attention, or void of ufe. Tht Turnament of Tottenham, however, printed by Percy, is a very humourous and very excellent compofition. But the moft curious and remarkable pieces of this period are two fongs or ballads, in a rude Northern dialeft, which de- ferve particular attention ; the one is upon the battle of (Hi) Literary Magazine) 1757, p. 30!. Percys Reliques, ii. 25. ar.d clfcwbcre, Otterburn, ON NATIONAL SONG, u Otterburn, fought between the Scots and the Englifh, un- der the refpeftive commands of an earl of Douglas (who was flain in the field), and the great and celebrated Henrjr lord Percy, furnamed Hotfpur, fon ofthe earl of Northum- berland, who was carried prifoner into Scotland; the other, if not a different modification of this ballad, is on an imaginary conflict between a Douglas and a Percy, oc- . cafioned by a hunting match fuppofed to have been made by the latter in CHEVY CHACE (/. e. the heights of Che- viot in Northumberland, then within the Scotifh march), in which they are both (lain. This is known to have been a popular long in the time of queen Elizabeth. " I never heard," fays the accomplimed fir Philip Sid- ney, " the old fong of Percy and Douglas, that I found not my heart moued more then with a trumpet ; and yet is it but fung by fome blind crowder, with no rougher voice then rude ftile : which being fo eufll apparelled intheduft and cobweb of that vnciuillage, what would it worke trimmed in the gorgeous elo- * quence of Pin dare." Notwithstanding this eulogy, it feems to have been little known and much neglecled ; and, being modernifed in a fucceeding reign, became to- tally forgotten, tillit was accidentally recovered by that induftrious antiquary, mr. Thomas Hearne, by whom it was firft printed ; and from him bifhop Percy inferted it in his Reliques of ancient Englijh Poetry ; in which, like- wifej The Battle of Otterburn, two copies whereof are luckily extant in the Mufeum, made its firft appearance. Thefe two fongs are by this ingenious writer afcribed to a body of men, who are fuppofed to have been, about this period, and for fome preceding centuries, very numerous and refpedlable ; and concerning whom he has favoured the world with a moft ingenious and elegant eflay. The reader will immediately recolledt the " ancient English " minftrels," of whom, before we advance further in our little hiltory, it may not be impertinent or improper to take fome notice. Without attempting to controvert the flighteft fadl laid down by the learned prelate, one may be well per- e 2 nutted Hi A HISTORICAL ESSAY mitted to queftion the propriety of his inferences, and, indeed, his general hypothecs. Every part of France, but more efpecially Normandy, feems to have formerly abounded in minftrels, whofe pro- feflion has been already defcribed. Many of thefe people, we can eafily fuppofe, attended the Conqueror, and his Norman barons, in their expedition to England ; and perhaps were provided for, or continued to gain a fubfiftence by their profeffional art among the fettlers. The conftant intercoude which fo long fubfifted between the two countries, that is, while the Englifh monarchs had poffeflions in France, afforded the French and Nor- man minftrels conftant opportunities of a free and unex- penfive paflage into England, where they were certain of a favorable reception and liberal rewards from the king, his barons, and other Anglo-Norman fubjefts. French or Norman minftrels, however, are not Englifh ones. There is not. the leaft proof that the latter were a refpeftable fociety, or that they even deferve the name of a fociety. That there were men in thofe times, as there are in the pre- fent, who gained a livelihood by going about from place to place, finging and playing to the illiterate vulgar, is doubtlefs true (133) 5 but that they were received into the caftles of the nobility, fung at their tables, and were re- warded like the French minftrels, does not any where appear, nor is it at all credible. The reafon is evident* (133) Puttenham gives us the following curious picture of the " Ancient Englift Minftrels" of lit time: " The ouer bufie and too fpeedyreturne of onemanerof tune [dothj *' too much annoy & as it were glut the eare, vnleffe it be in fmall " and popular Mufickes fong by thefe Cantanbanqui vpon benches and " barrels heads where they haue none other audience then boys or " countrey fellowes that paffe by them in the ftreet, or elfe by blind " harpers or fuch like tauerne minftrelles that give a fit of mirth fora " groat, & their matters being for the moft part ftories of old time, ". as the tale of fir Topas, the reportes of Beuis of Southampton, " Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough& fuch " other old romances or hiftoricall rimes, madepurpofely for recreation " of the comon people at Chriftmas dinners & brideales, and in " tauernes & alehoufes and fuch other places of bafe refort," Arte f Enjlifh Poefie, 1589. p. 69. The ON NATIONAL SONG. liii The French tongue alone was ufed at court, and in the houfeholds of the Norm an barons (who defpifed the Saxon manners and language), for many centuries after the Conqueft, and continued till, at leaft, the reign of Henry VIII. the polite language of both court and coun-' try, and as well known as the Englifh itsfelf: a faft of which (to keep to our fubjecl) we need no other evidence than the multitude of French poems and fongs to be found in every library. The learned treatife above no- ticed might, therefor, with more propriety, have been intitled *' An Effay on the ancient FRENCH Minftrels," whom the feveral fadls and anecdotes there related alone concern. Of the Englifh minflrels, all the knowlege we have of them is, that by a law of queen Elizabeth they were pronounced " rogues, vagabonds, and fturdy " Beggars (134) ;" a fefficient proof they were not very refpeftable in her time, how eminent foever they might have been before (135). Thatfuch characters as thefe ihould have left us no memorials of theirfelves is not at all furprifing. They could fing and play ; but it was none of their bufmefs to read or write. So that, whatever their fongs may have been, they feem to have perifhed along with them ; for, excepting the two ballads which have been mentioned (neither of which, unlefs it be from the rude and barbarous jargon in which they are compofed, are necefiarily afcribable to minftrels), we have not a Tingle composition which can, with any degree of cer- tainty, or even plausibility, be given to a perfon of thi* defcription (136). Ames, (134) 59 Eliz. c. 4. f. i. (135) They are not reprefented to much greater advantage by the early hiftorians, " who," it feems, " can feldom afford them a ** better name than that of Scurrte, famelici, Nebuhnts, &c." PER c r (Notes on the Eflay, xlii.). (136) That the reader may not be misled by a term, it will be per- tinent to remark that the word is frequently ufed fora mufician in ge- neral. Thus " the kings minftrels" were his band of mufic. The chorifters of a cathedral as well as the trumpets of an army are Hke- wife often fo called. And in an ordinance of the rump parliament, 1658, which pays the minftrels no more iefpe.fi than Queen Eliza- beth had done, the word is ufed as fynonimous with fddlers, in which more expreflive and tharafteriftic appellation it has been fincc entirely loft. liy A HISTORICAL ESSAY Ames, the author of the Typographical Antiquities , i$ faid to have had in his poffeffion a folio volume of Englifh. fongs or ballads, compofed or collected by one John Lucas, about the year 1450; which fir John Hawkins thinks "is probably ye tin being (137)." Whoever has it, would do the public an effential fervice, by informing them of the nature of its contents. As to Shirleys col- lection, in the Afhmolean mufeum, it is of very little value, and contains, at leaft in the prefent fenfe of the words, neither fongs >or baxjad^. The reign of Edward IV. affords no particular infor- jmaticn on the fubjecl:. In that of his ion and fhort-iived fucceffor, we have a fong written by the learned Anthony Widville, earl Rivers, during the time of his impri- fonment, by the arbitrary diftates of the ambitious and ufurping Gloucefter, in Pontefrad caftle. This little. piece, which is prefcrvedby Roufe the hiftorian, and has been reprinted by Percy, is in imitation of the meafure of one afcribed to Chaucer, and begins Sumwhat mufyng, &c. There is no fong extant which can be fafely afcribed to the reign of Richard III. Skelton, in the time of his immediate fucceflbr, is a poet of fome eminence. H? was a great writer of " balades" and " dities of plea- ** fure," a few of which we have left ; but the beft, at leaft the moft humourous of them, is, at prefent, too grofs to be endured, and the others are too infipid to be regarded. The late mr. Thorelbyhad a fair large manufcript collection of Englifh fongs of this period, with the mu- fical compolitions of the moft eminent mailers, which had once belonged to the lord Fairfax. It afterwards came into the hands of a gentleman in the city, who permitted great part of it to be engraved and publifhed. The mufic, according to dr. Burney, is fomewhat ujicouth, but is ftill better than the poetry. To fmg by note, ap- pears to have been then an ordinary accomplifhment. The fongs ufed at this time, and, indeed, down to the Reformation, were moftly in French, Italian, or La- tin (138). The mufic-book of prince Arthur is ftill ex- (137) Hiftory of Mufic, II, 91. (138) Burney, II. 551. tant : ON NATIONAL SONG. Iv tant : it is full of fongs ; and there is not an Englifh word among them. Of Henry the Eighths reign the writer of thefe pages has before him a tolerably latge manufcript, fomewhat refembling the Fairfax collection, but more abounding in church fervices, hymns, carols, and other religious pieces. One of the fongs is much in the manner of Skelton, and not without humour. Another, intitled The kynges ballad, beginning Pafle tyme with good cumpanye, is probably the compofition of this or the preceding ty- rant, each of whom is faid to have had a turn for mufic and fong(i39). Caligula and Nero affeded the fame tafte. In the library of the Society of Antiquaries are feveral old printed copies of fongs, on the difgrace of Thomas Cromwell, earl of Eflex, which mould feem to have been fung and fold in the ftreets. The firft, and perhaps belt of them, is reprinted by Percy (140). It is fcarcely poffible that the fall of Wolfey was lefs diftinguimed. The Reformation appears to have given full as much employment to the ballad -makers as to the polemical divines. Perhaps, indeed, they were one and the fame fet. A few of thefe are to be found in the Reliques. It is much to be regretted that we have no fongs of Surrey or Wyatt, the two beft poets of that age, and the firft who made any progrefs in polifhing and improving the language : unlefs the latters exquifite addrefs to his lute can be properly deemed one. (139) Puttenham (Arte of Englifli Poefie, p. 12.) mentions "one ' Gray" as having grown into great eftimation with Henry VIII. " and afterward with the duke of Somerfet protedtour, for making *' certaine merry ballades, whereof one chiefly was, Tbe kuntt it vp t " tie bunte it i>/>." There is likewife a fpecie-s of poetical harmony, in old books, called " K. H. mirth, or Freemens Songs." For the meaning of the letters K. H. fir John Hawkins fays, we arc to feek : there cannot be a doubt that they meau King Henrjt, (140) Reliques, II. 64. e 4 Lord Ivi A HISTORICAL ESSAY Lord Vaux the elder is a fong-writer of the two fol- lowing reigns. His Aged Lover,, of which the grave- digger in Hamlet fings a few ftanzas, and Cupids dflnuft , both preferved at the end of Surreys poems, and re- pinted by Percy, are pieces of no little merit. And, in whatever light the beautiful paftoral of Harpalus be confidered, the author has done hisfelf much injuftice in concealing his name. We now arrive at the time of queen Elizabeth ; in which we are to look for the origin of the modern Englifh fong ; not a fingle composition of that nature, with the fmalleft degree of poetical merit, being difcoverable at any preceding period ; and, confequently, none earlyer is to be found in the collection herewith given to the public (141). We may venture to place Marlow at the head of the numerous fong- writers of this reign ; not more by rea- fon of his priority, than on account of his merit. And yet his Paftoral Invitation is the only fong of his which has defcendedto us ; poffibly, which he wrote. But the beautiful and chajafteriftic fimplicity of this little piece is fully fufficient to juftify the preference here given him on the fcore of merit. Wither, better known in the po- litical, as well as poetical, annals of the two following reigns, muft be efteemed a fongfter of this. Both he and Marlow are happily imitated by Raleigh. Spenfer has inferted a paftoral fong in his eclogues. Dray- ton, a fmooth and poetic writer, has left us two or three tolerable fongs ; but his excellence is in his larger works. The genius of Shakfpeare was as univerfal as it was fublime : his Lyric produc- tions are fuperior to thcfe of his contemporaries ; &nd than feme of them nothing better has fmce appeared. (141) If we could recover that " bunch of ballets and fongs ** all ancient," which captain Cox, the literary malbn of Coventry, had " fair wrapt up in parchment and bound with a whipcord :" " as " Broom, broom on hil : So wo it me begon, trolylo. Over a whinny " weg. Hey ding a ding. Bonny la is upon a green. My bony on < gave me a belt. By a bank az I lay; and a hundred more" (Langham, Letter from Killingworth. Lon. 1575. 8vo.) it if very p c/Tjble that the abort opinion might prove erroneous. How ON NATIONAL SONG. Ivii How much ought we to regret the valuable time he fa- crificed to the falfe tafte of his age, in the compofition of above I5ofonnets (the moft difficult and infipid metrical ftrufture ever invented), which, though from the pen of this immortal bard, we can fcarcely endure to read ! Sir Philip Sidney wrote a number of things in and out of the Arcadia, which were then efteemed fongs^ but they are all too much in the affefted and unnatural man- ner of the Italian and Spanifh poets, to deferve this cha- racter at prefent. His friend, lord Brooke, has, how- ever, left us one piece, which will be always accepted as a good fong. And fome of the performances of Francis Davifon appear the effufions of a real poetical genius, and deferve much praife. The queen herfelf had a turn for poetry, which me did not diidain to cultivate. Specimens of her talents are preferred in fome contemporary publications ; but none of them appears to be a perfeft fong. Vere earl of Oxford, mafter Edwards of the queens chapel, George Gafcoigne, Nicholas Breton, and many other diftinguifhed and inferior poets, are among th fong-writers of this reign. The earlieft drinking fong of any merit, in the lan- guage, is that inferted at page 71. of the fecond volume. How much, if .at all, elder it is than the dramatic piece in which it is preferved does not appear. It is, likewife, to the age of this princefs we are to re- fer the origin of the Englifh ballad. That the common people of this, likethofe of almoft every other country, ; have always, even in their rudeft ftate, had fongs to ce- ' lebrateor record national or local occurrences, by whom- foever they may have been compofed, is an incontro- vertible faft. Unfortunately, however, of thefe pieces not more than two, both already noticed, are known to exift(i42). All the reft, not having been collected or (142) It ni.ay be proper to mention that the ballad of Captain Car t printed by Percy under the Scotifli title of Edem (Adam) o Gordon, U extant in a MS. of queen Elizabeths time. But whether this be ori- ginally Englifh, or only an alteration from the Scoti/h, and whether the name fubjoined be that of the author or tranfcriber, are circum- fiances altogether uncertain. enterc4 Iviii A HISTORICAL ESSAY entered in large volumes, nor ever printed, are irreco- verably loft. What a treafure would it be to poffefs a collection of the vulgar fongs coinpofed and fung during the civil wars of York and Lancafter, in which almoit every moment afforded fome great, noble, interefting or pathetic fubjecl for the imagination of the poet ! How delightful, how inftruftive, would be the perufal of fuch a little hiilory of that turbulent and bloody pe- riod ! The ponderous tomes of Lydgate and Occleve have defcended to us in the higheft prefervation ; one would gladly facrifice the whole for a fmgle page ! But the fongs of which we are fpeaking appear to have born fo little . reiemblance to the Itile and manner of the old ballads with which we are now acquainted, and from which a part of the prefent collection is formed, that we may fairly infer that not one of the latter exifted before the reign of the above princefs. The learned and ingenious bilhop Percy has, indeed, pub- limed a work, in which a confiderable number of fongs and ballads, that have never otherwife appeared, are af- cribed to a very remote antiquity ; an antiquity altoge- ther incompatible with the ftile and language of the compofitions theirfelves, moft of which, one may be al- lowed to fay, bear the ftrongeft intrinfic marks of a very modern date. But the genuinenefs of thefe pieces can- not be properly inveftigated or determined without an infpection of the original manufcript, from which they are faid to be extracted. As 'to the ancient black letter copies of the more common Englifh ballads, of which there are feveral collections extant (143), not more than three are fo old as the fixteenth century, nor double the number of a more early date than the reign of king Charles II. The reft, to the amount of many hundreds, appear to have been printed between the Reiteration and the commencement of the prefent century. > It is not, however, meant by this to infmuate that none of thofe in (143) The largeft is one of 5 vols. in the Pepyfian library 5 the next one of 2 in the library of the late major Pearfon. There is ano- ther in the Britiflj, and a fourth in the Aflimolean mufeura, the ON NATIONAL SONG. lix the two laft dcfcriptions are of equal antiquity, in point of compofition, with thofe in the firft : the con- trary is certain. That thefe ballads were originally compofed for public fingers by profeffion, and perhaps im- mediately for printers, bookfellers, or thofe who vended fuch like things, is highly probable. But whether they were, in every cafe, firft publifhed in fingle meets, and not, till afterwards collected into Garlands, or whether they made their firft appearance in fuch collections, does not clearly appear. Thomas Deloney and Richard John r fon, writers by profeffion of amufmg books for the popu- lace, were famous ballad T makers about this period. And could we be afTured that they were the real authors of the Garlands, or collections publifhed under their re- fpedive names, we might be able to refer moft of the ballads in the prefent collection to the one or to the other. Elderton has been pronounced peerlefs in the compofition of ballads (144). From him the laurel defcended to Martin Parker, the laft, perhaps, who was any way ce- lebrated on this account. The reign of queen Elizabeth is alfo the age of Ma- drigals, Catches and Glees: but, as thefe, though fomewhat partaking of the nature of fong, claim a much nearer affinity with Euterpe than with Poly- hymnia, it will be fufficient to have juft mentioned them. Among the fongfters of James the Firfts time, one is pleafed to meet the name of that elegant writer and accomplifhed gentleman fir Henry Wotton. Dr. Donnes imitation of Marlow, and other pieces, intitle him to a place in the lift. And of the following fong by Ben Jonfon, Anacreon, had Anacreon written in Englifli, need not have been afhamed. ! Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will. pledge with mine, Or leave a kifs but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine ; ( 744) See Song XLIX. Part III. Ont of bit balladi it reprinted ' Tht Ix A HISTORICAL ESSAY The thirft that from the foul doth rife Doth aflc a drink divine, But might I of Joves ne&ar fup, I would not change for thine. I fent thee late a rofy wreath, Not fo much honouring thee, As giving it a chance that there It could not withered be : But thou thereon did'ft only bre;the, And fent'ft it back to me, Since when it grows and fmells, I fwear, Not of itielf, but thee. The facetious bifhop Corbett is likewife an author of this reign. His Fairies Faretvell and Dijlrafled Puritan, have much humour and merit. The poems of Carew afford many excellent fongs : a little more fimplicity might have confiderably increafed the number. Bifhop King, whom it would be injuftice to forget, muft have written toward the end of this reign. Waller, born in 1605, maybe efteemed the firft fong- writer, as well as the beft poet of the reign of Charles I. Milton has left us a few fongs, which would have ap- peared to poflefs more merit if they had fallen from an author of lefs dignity. Sucklings chef They ficken and expire. SONG III. WHEN firft I faw thee graceful move, Ah me ! what meant my throbbing breaft ? Say, foft confufion, art thou love ? If love thou art, then farewell reft ! Since doom'd I am. to love thee, fair, Though hopelefs of a warm return, Yet kjll me not with cold defpair; But let me live, and let me burn* B 2 With LOVE- SONGS. With gentle fmiles aflwage the pain Thofe gentle fmiles did firft create : And, though you cannot love again, In pity, oh ! forbear to hate. SONG IV. THE INHANTMENT. BY MR. OTWAY. I Did but look and love a while, 'Twas but for one half hour ; Then to refill I had no will, And now I have no pow'r. To ligh, and wifli, is all my eafe ; Sighs, which do heat impart, Enough to melt the coldeft ice, Yet cannot warm your heart. O ! would your pity give my heart One corner of your breaft; 'T would learn of yours the winning art, And quickly fteal the reft. SONG V. BY VISCOUNT MOLESWORTH. A LMERIAS face, her fhape, her air, JT\. With charms refiftlefs wound the heart; In vain you for defence prepare, When from her eyes Love throws his dart. So LOVE- SONGS. So ftrong, fo fwift the arrow flies, Such fure deftrudlion flying makes ; The bold oppofer quickly dies ! The fugitive it overtakes ! Nor ftratagem, nor force avails, No feign'd fubmiflion fets you free ; One look o'er all your art prevails, There's no way fafe but not to fee ! For fuch the magic of her arms, And wounding me does fo allure ; The unexperienc'd court their harms j The wounded never wifh a cure. SONG VI. THE VAIN ADVICE. BY MRS. COCKBURN. AH gaze not on thofe eyes ! forbear That foft inchanting voice to hear : Not looks of bafilifks give furer death, Not Syrens fing with more deftruftive breath. Fly, if thy freedom thou'dft maintain. Alas ! I feel, th' advice is vain ! A heart, whofe fafety but in flight does lie, Is too far loft to have the pow'r to fly. B * SONG LOVE- SONGS, SONG VII. BY AARON HILL E S Q^ OH ! forbear to bid me flight her, Soul and fenfes take her part ; Could my death itfelf delight her, Life fliould leap, to leave my heart. Strong, though foft, a lovers chain, X^harm'd with woe, and pleas'd with pain. Though the tender flame were dying, Love would light it, at her eyes ; Or, her tuneful voice applying, Through my ear, my foul furprife, Deaf, I fee the fate I fhun ; Blind, I hear I am undone. SONG VIE, WHILE from my looks, fair nymph, you guefs The fecret paffions of my mind, My heavy eyes, you fay, confefs A heart to love and grief inclined, There needs, alas ! but little art To have this fatal fecret found ; With the fame ea.fe you threw the dart 'Tis certain you may ihow the wound. How LOVE- SONGS. How can I fee you and not love, While you as opening Eaft are fair ? While cold as Northern blaits you prove, How can I love and pot defpair ? The wretch in double fetters bound Your potent mercy may releafe ; Soon, if my love but once were crown'd, Fair prophetefs ! my grief would ceafe. SONG IX. THE SNOW-BALL. FROM PETRONIUS AFRANIUI. BY SOAME JENYNS E S Qj, WHITE as her hand, fair Julia threw A ball of filver fnow; The frozen globe fir'd as it flew, My bofom felt it glow. Strange pow'r of love ! whofe great command Can thus a fnow-ball arm ; When fent, fair Julia, from thy haad, Ev'n ice itfelf can warm. B 4 How LOVE-SONGS. How fhould we then fecure our hearts ; Loves pow'r we all muft feel j Who thus can, by ftrange magic arts, In ice his flame conceal. 'Tis thou alone, fair Julia, know, Cantt quench my fierce defire; But not with water, ice, or fnow, But with an equal fire. SONG X. BY SIR JOHN VANBRUGH*. I Smile at Love, and all his arts, The charming Cynthia cried ; Take heed, for Love has piercing darts, A wounded fwain replied : Once free, and bleft, as you are nowj . I trifled with his charms, I pointed at his little bow, And fported with his arms : 'Till urg'd too far Revenge, he cries ! A fatal fhaft he drew, Which took its paflage through your eyes, And to my heart it flew : To * Jo the comedy of The Rclapfct LOVE-SONGS. To tear it thence I tried in vaiii, To ftrive, I quickly found, Was only to increafe the pain, And mortify the wound j Too well, alas ! I fear, you know What anguifh I endure, Since what your eyes alone could do, Your heart alone can cure. SONG XL BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER. WHILST on thofe lovely looks I gaze, To fee a wretch purfuing, In raptures of a bleft amaze, His pleafing happy ruin ; 'Tis not for pity that I move ; His fate is too afpiring, Whofe heart, broke with a load of love, Dies wilhing and admiring. But if this murder you'd forego, Your Have from death removing, Let me your art of charming know, Or learn you mine of loving. But LOVE. SONGS. But whether life or death betide, In love 'tis equal meafure ; The vidlor lives with empty pride, The vanquifti'd die with pleafure. SONG XII. Ilik'd, but never lov'd, before I faw thy charming face ; Now ev'ry feature I adore, And dote on ev'ry grace. She ne'er mall know the kind defire Which her cold look denies, Unlefs my heart, that's all on fire, Should fparkle through my eyes. Then if no gentle glance return A filent leave to fpeak, My heart, which would for ever burn, Muft figh, alas ! and break. SONG 1 O V E - S O N G S. SONG XIII. BY MR, ADDISON. MY love was fickle once and changing, Nor e'er would fettle in my heart ; From beauty ftill to beauty ranging, In every face I found a dart. 'Twas firil a charming fhape enflav'd me, An eye then gave the fatal ftroke : Till by her wit Corinna fav*d me, And all my former fetters broke. But now a long and lafting angviifh. For Belvidera I endure ; Hourly I figh, and hourly languifh, Nor hope to find the wonted cure. For here the falfe inconftant lover, After a thoufand beauties mown, Does new furprifing charms difcover, And finds variety in one. S. O N G XIV. I Never faw a face till now, That could my fancy move ; I lik'd, and ventur'd many a vow, But durft not think of love : Till >* LOVE- SONGS. Till beauty charming ev'ry fenfe, An eafy conqueft made ; And Ihow'd the vainnefs of defence, When Phillis does invade. But oh ! her colder heart denies The thoughts her looks infpire ; And while in ice that frozen lies, Her eyes dart only fire. Between extremes I am undone, Like plants too Northward fet ; Burnt by too violent a fun, Or flarv'd for want of heat. SONG XV. WITH women I have pafs'd my days, And ev'ry minute blefs'd ; No fecret figh controul'd my eafe, No wifh difturb'd my reft. Thus, void of care, my hours have flown, For ftill I found my heart my own. I often prais'd a handfome face, Extoll'd a fparkling eye, And fafe, examin'd ev'ry grace, Without a real figh. Thus, void of care, my hours have flown, For ftill 1 found my heart my own. I heard LOVE- SO N G S. 13 I heard the force of fpritely wit, With ftrength of reafon fir'd, Thoughts that a mufes tongue might fit, And each bright turn admir'd. Thus, void of care, my hours have flown, For Hill I found my heart my own. I liften'd to the Syrens voice By magic art improv'd ; The Syren could not fix my choice, The fong alone I lov'd. Thus, void of care, my hours have flown, For ftill I found my heart my own. But now, o Love I own thy reign, I find thee in my heart ; I know, I feel the pleafing pain, 'Twas Chloe threw the dart. Chloe her utrnoft power has fhown, My heart is now no more my own. I faw, I heard, and felt the flame, For Chloe fmil'd and fpoke; O Cupid, take another aim, Or elfe my heart is broke ! To Chloe let the dart be thrown, And make her heart no more her own. SONG 14 LOVE-SONGS. SONG XVI. WHY will Florella, when I gaze, My ravifh'd eyes reprove, And chide them from the only face They can behold with love ? To fliun your fcorn, and eafe my care, I feek a nymph more kind ; And, while I rove from fair to fair, Still gentle ufage find. But oh ! how faint is ev'ry joy, Where nature has no part; New beauties may my eyes employ, But you engage my heart. So reftlefs exiles doom'd to roam, Meet pity every where ; Yet languifh for their native home, Though death attends them there. O. SONG XVII. BY LORD LYTTELTON*. SAY, Myra, why is gentle Love A ftranger to that mind ; Which pity and efteem can move ; Which can be juft and kind ? Is it, becaufe you fear to fhare The ills that love moleft, The jealous doubt, the tender care, That rack the am'rous breaft ? * Written in the year J73Z." Alas! LOVE- SONGS* Alas ! by fome degree of woe We ev'ry blifs muft gain : The heart can ne'er a tranfport know, That never feels a pain. SONG XVIII. BY MATHEW PRIOR E S Q^ IN vain you tell your parting lover, You wifh fair winds may waft him over : Alas ! what winds can happy prove, That bear me far from what 1 love ? Alas ! what dangers on the main Can equal thofe that I fuftain, From flighted vows and cold difdain ? Be gentle, and in pity chufe To wiih the wildeft tempefls loofe : That thrown again upon the coaft, Where firft my fliipwreck'd heart was loft, I may once more repeat my pain j Once more in dying notes complain < Of flighted vows, and cold difdain. SONG XIX, FAIN would you eafe my troubled heart, And by examples prove, That men unhurt may feel the dart, And bear the pangs of love. Why LOVE-SONGS. Why fhould not I then undergo The gen'ral doom of all ? 'Tis granted, moft fun'ive the blow, Yet many by it fall. Your counfels may my thanks engage, But not my love controul ; Alas ! fuch juleps ne'er aflwage This fever of the foul. Such to the burning patient give, When fate approaches nigh, Tell him that thoufands through it live, While he mult by it die. SONG XX. WHY, Delia, ever when I gaze, Appears in frowns that lovely face ? Why are thefe fuiiles to me denied That gladden ev'ry heart befide ? In vain your eyes my flame reprove ; I may defpair, but ftill mart love. From fweeteft airs I fought relief, And hop'd from mufic, cure for grief; Fool that I was ! the thrilling found Serv'd only to increafe the wound ; I, while for reft I fondly ftrove, Forgot that mufic ftrengthens love. To L O V E - S O N G S. 17 To pleafures of a different kind Soon undeceiv'd I turn'd my mind ; I fought the fair, the gay, the young, And drefs'd, and play'd, and danc'd, andfung; Vain joys ! too weak my heart to move, Ah ! what are you to her I love ? When drooping on the bed of pain, I look'd on every hope as vain ; When pitying friends flood weeping by, And Deaths pale made feem'd hovering nigh, No terror could my flame remove, Or fleal a thought from her I love. Abfence may bring relief, I cried, And ftrait the dreadful hope I tried ; Alas ! in vain was ev'ry care ; Still in my heart I bore my fair ; Ah ! whither, whither mall I rove, To fhun delpair, or fly from love ? SONG XXI. BY ROBERT WOLSELEY ESQ., AH ! blame me not, if no defpair A paffion you infpire can end, Nor think it ftrange, too charming fair, If love, like other flames, afcend. VOL, I. C If i? LOVE, SONGS. If to approach a faint with prayer Unworthy votaries pretend, Above all merit Heaven and you To the fincere are only due. Long did refpeft awe my proud aim, And fear t' offend my madnefs cover, Like you it ftill reprov'd my flame, And in the friend would hide the lover, But by things that want a name I the too bold truth difcover. My words in vain are in my power, My looks betray me every hour. SONG XXII. THE SILENT LOVER. BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH. WRONG not, fweet miftrefs of my heart ! The merit of true paffion, With thinking that he feels no fmart, Who fues for no compaffion. Since, if my plaints were not t' approve The conqueft of thy beauty, It comes not from defect of love, But fear t' exceed my duty. For, knowing that I fue to ferve A faint of fuch perfection, As all defire, but none deferve, A place in her affe&ion, I rather L O V E - S O N G S. 19 I rather chufe to want relief, Than venture the revealing : Where glory recommends the grief, Defpair difdains the healing. Thus thofe defires that boil fo high In any mortal lover, When reafon cannot make them die, Difcretion them mult cover, Yet when difcretion doth bereave The plaints that I mould utter, Then your difcretion may perceive That filence is a fuitor. Silence in- love bewrays more woe Than words, though ne'er fo witty ; A beggar that is dumb, you know, May challenge double pity. Then wrong not, deareft to my heart! My love for fecret paffion : He fmarteth moft that hides his fmart, And fues for no compaffion. SONG XXIII. YOU may ceafe to complain, For your fuit is in vain, All attempts you can make But augment her difdain P C 2 She 20 LOVE-SONGS, She bids you give o'er While 'tis in your power, For, except her efteera, She can grant you no more : Her heart has been long fince AfTaulted and won, Her truth is as lafting And firm as the fun ; You'll find it more eafy Your paffion to cure, Than for ever thofe fruitlefs Endeavours endure. You may give this advice To the wretched and wife, But a lover like me Will thofe precepts defpife; I fcorn to give o'er, Were it ftill in my power; Though efteem were denied me, Yet her I'll adore, A heart that's been touch'd Will fome fympathy bear, 'Twill leflen my forrows, If ihe takes a mare. I'll count it more honour In dying her flave, Than did her affedions My fteadinefs crave, Yon LOVE-SONGS. 2! You may tell her I'll be Her true lover, though fhe Should mankind defpife Out of hatred to me; 'Tis mean to give o'er 'Caufe we get no reward, She loft not her worth When I loft her regard: My love on an altar More noble fliall burn, I ftill will love on, Without hopes of return ; I'll tell her fome other Has kindled the flame, And I'll figh for her felf In a counterfeit name. SONG XXIV. GOOD REASON FOR LOVING. BY MR, HENRY CAREY. SA W you the nymph whom I adore, Saw you the goddefs of my heart? And can you bid me love no more, Or can you think I feel no fmart ? So many charms around her fhine, Who can the fweet temptation fly ! Spite of her fcorn, flic's fo divine, That I muft love her, though I die. C 3 SONG it LOVE-SONGS. SONG XXV. BY DR. HENRY KING, BISHOP OF CH1CHESTER. TELL me no more how fair me is, I have no mind tc hear The ftory of that xliflant blifs I never mall come near : By fad experience I have found That her perfection is my wound. And tell me not how fond I am To tempt my daring fate. From whence no triumph ever came, But to repent too late : There is fome hope ere long I may In filence doat myfelf away. I afk no pity, Love, from thee, Nor will thy juftice blame, So that thou wilt not envy me The glory of my flame : Which crowns my heart whene'er it dies, In that it falls her facrifice. SONG XXVI. THE nymph that undoes me is fair and unkind ; No lefs than a wonder by nature defign'd ; She's the grief of my heart, and the joy of my eye, And the caufe of a flame that never can die. Her LOVE-SONGS. 23 Her mouth, from whence wit ftill obligingly flows, Has the beautiful blufh, and the fmell of the rofe; Love and DefHny both attend on her will, She wounds with a look, with a frown me can kill. The defperate lover can hope no redrefs, Where beauty and rigour are both in excefs ; In Sylvia they meet, fo unhappy am I, Who fees her, muft love her, who loves her, muft die. O. SONG XXVII. TAKE, oh take thofe lips away, That fo fvveetly were forfworn ; And thofe eyes, the break of day, Lights that do miflead the morn : But my kifTes bring again, Seals of love, but feal'd in vain. Hide, oh hide thofe hills of fnow, Which thy frozen bofom bears, On whofe tops the pinks that grow, Are of thofe that April wears : But firft fet my poor heart free, Bound in thofe icy chains by thee*. O. * This delicious little fonnet has been generally afcribed to Shak- fpeare, but it is far from certain that he was the author of it. The firft ftanza is fung in Meafure for Meafure, and both verfes are to be found in one of Beaumont and Fletchers plays. C 4 SONG 24. LOVE. SONGS. SONG xxvm. BY EDMUND WALLER E S QI \^JI O lovely rofe ! Tell her that waftes her time, and me, That now fhe knows, When I referable her to thee, How fweet and fair me feems to be. Tell her that's young, And ihuns to have her graces fpied, That hadft thou fprung In deferts, where no men abide, Thou muft have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retir'd ; Bid her come forth, Suffer her felf to be defir'd, And not blufh fo to be admir'd. Then die! that fhe The common fate of all things rare May read in thee : How fmall a part of time they fhare, That are fo wondrous fweet, and fair. SONG LOVE- SONGS. SONG XXIX. BY MR. GAY*. GO, rofe, my Chloes bofom grace ; How happy fhould I prove, Might I fupply that envied place With never-fading love ; There, Phoenix-like, beneath her eye Involv'd in fragrance burn and die ! Know haplefs flower, that thou fhalt find More fragrant rofes there; I fee thy withering head reclin'd With envy and defpair. One common fate we both muft prove, You die with envy, I with love. SONG XXX. TO A LADY READING SHERLOCK UPON DEATH. BY THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. MISTAKEN fair, lay Sherlock by, His do&rine is deceiving, For whilft he teaches us to die, He cheats us of our living. * la the Fable of The Poet and the Rofc. To 26 LOVE- SONGS. To die's a leflbn we fhall know Too foon, without a mailer; Then let us only ftudy now How we may live the fafter. To live's to love, to blefs be bleft, With mutual inclination ; Share then my ardour in your bread, And kindly meet my paffion. But if thus bleft, I may not live, And pity you deny, To me at lead your Sherlock give, 'Tis I muft learn to die. SONG XXXI. WHEN firft I fair Celinda knew, Her kindnefs then was great : Her eyes I could with pleafure view, And friendly rays did meet : In all delights we pafs'd the time, That could diverfion move ; She oft would kindly hear me rhime Upon fome others love. But, ah ! at laft I grew too bold, Prefs'd by my growing flame ; For when my paffion I had told, She hated ev'n my name : Thus LOVE-SONGS. 27 Thus I that could her friendftiip boaft, And did her love purfue ; Am taught contentment, at the coft Of love and friendfhip too. O. SONG XXXII. WHEN fair Serrena firft I knew By friendships happy union charm'd, Ince (Tan t joys around her flew, And gentle fmiles my bofom warm'd. But when, with fond officious care, I prefs'd to breathe my amorous pain ; Her lips fpoke nought bat cold defpair, Her eyes mot ice through every vein. Thus, in Itallas lovely vales, The fun his genial vigour yields ; Reviving heat each fenfe regales, And plenty crowns the fmiling fields. When nearer we approach his ray ; High on the Alps tremendous brow, Surpris'd we fee pale fun-beams play On everlalting hills of fnow. SONG 2 8 LOVE-SONGS. SONG XXXIII. FAIREST of thyfex and bed, Admit my humble tale ; 'Twill eafe the torment of my breaft, Though I mall ne'er prevail. No fond ambition me does move Your favour to implore, I afk not for return of love, But freedom to adore. SONG XXXIV. FROM THE FRENCH. BY MICHAEL WODHULL E S Q COULD you guefs, for I ill can repeat The fenfation I'm deflin'd to prove ; 'Tis fomething than friendfhip more fweet, More paflionate even than love. For ever, when abfent from you, Pale Echo returns my fond fighs ; But when haply your beauties I view, On my lips the faint utterance dies. This the fecret I had to betray; And the fate of my paffion is fuch, That in what I was prompted to fay, Methinks I have utter'd too much. SONG LOVE- SONGS. ^ 29 SONG XXXV. L'A MOUR TIMID E. FROM THE FRENCH. BY SIR JOHN MOORE. IF in that breaft, fo good, fo pure, Compalfion ever lov'd to dwell, Pity the forrows I endure, The caufe I muft not dare not tell. The grief that on my quiet preys That rends my heart that checks my tongue I fear will laft me all my days, But feel it will not laft me long. SONG XXXVI. BY . .*. THE filver rain, the pearly dew, The gales that fweep along the mead, The foften'd rocks once' forrow knew, And marbles have found tears to filed : The fighing trees, in every grove, Have pity, if they have not love. * In mrs, Clives (two aft) comedy of the Rehcarfal, or Bayes in petticoats. Shall LOVE-SONGS. Shall things inanimate be kind, And every foft 4enfation know ; The -.veeping rain, and fighing wind, All, all, but thee, fome mercy mow. Ah p'ty, if you fcorn t'approve, Have pity, if thou haft not love. SONG XXXVII. BY MATHEW PRIOR E S Q^ WHILST I am fcorch'd with hot defire, In vain cold friendfhip you return ; Your drops of pity on my fire Alas ! but make it fiercer burn. Ah! would you h. ve the flame fuppreft That kills the heart it heats too faft, Take half my paffion to your breaft, The reft in mine mall ever laft. SONG XXXVIII. BY MRS. BEHN. 'A I MS not your faying that you love, JL Can ea'e me of my fmart : Your aftions muft your words approve, Or elfe you break my heart. LOVE-SONGS. 31 In vain you bid my paflions ceafe, And eafe my troubled breaft, Your love alone muft give me peace, Reftore my wonted reft. But if I fail your heart to move, And 'tis not yours to give, I cannot, will not ceafe to love, But I will ceafe to live. SONG XXXIX. BY MR. DRYDEN. GO tell Amynta, gentle fwain, I would not die, nor dare complain : Thy tuneful voice with numbers join, Thy words will more prevail than mine. For fouls opprefs'd, and dumb with grief, The gods ordain'd this kind relief, That mufic mould in founds convey What dying lovers dare not fay. A figh or tear perhaps ftie'll give, But love on pity cannot live ; Tell her that hearts for hearts were made, And love with love is only paid, Tell her my pains fo faft increafe, Thafr foon they will be pad redrefs : For ah ! the wretch, that fpeechlefs lies, Attends but Death to clofe his eyes. SONG 32 LOVE- SONGS. SONG XL. BY AARON HILL E S Q^ GENTLE Love, this hour befriend me, To my eyes refign thy dart ; Notes of melting mufic lend me, To diffolve" a frozen heart. Chill, as mountain fnovv, her bolbm ; Though I tender language ufe, 'Tis by cold indifference frozen, To my arms, and to my mufe. See ! my dying eyes are pleading, Where a breaking heart appears : For thy pity interceding, With the eloquence of tears. While the lamp of life is fading, And beneath thy coldnefs dies, Death my ebbing foul invading, Take my foul into thy eyes. SONG XLI. CONSTANCY. BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER. I Cannot change, as others do, Though you unjultly fcorn : Since that poor fwain that fighs for you, For you alone was born. No, LOVE- SONGS. No, Phillis, no, your heart to move, A furer way I'll try : And to revenge my flighted love, Will ftill love on and die. When, kill'd with grief, Amyntas liesj And you to mind fhall call, The fighs that now unpitied rife, The tears that vainly fall : That welcome hour that ends this fmart, Will then begin your pain ; For fuch a faithful tender heart Can never break in vain. SONG XLU. BY MRS. PILKINGTON. TO melancholy thoughts a prey, With love and grief oppreft ; To peace a flranger all the day, And all the night to reft. For thee, difdainful fair, I pine, And wake the tender figh j By that obdurate heart of thine, My balmy bleffings fly. O look to yon celeftial fphere, Where fouls in rapture glow, And dread to want that mercy there. Which you refus'd below. VOL. I. D SONS 34 LOVE, SONGS. SONG XLIII. BY THE EARL OF DORSET*. TO all you ladies now at -land, We men at fea indite ; But firft would have you underftaud How hard it is to write ; The Mufes now, and Neptune too, We muft implore to write to you. With a fa, la, la, la, la. For though the Mufes fhonld prove kind, And fill our empty brain ; Yet if rough Neptune roufa the wind To wave the azure main, Our paper, pen, and ink, and we, Roll up and down our fhips at fea. With a fa, &c. Then if we write not bj each poft, Think not we are unkind ; Nor yet conclude our Ihips are loft By Dutchmen or by wind :- Our tears we'll fend a fpeedier way, The tide (hall bring them twice a day. With a fa, &c. * " Written at fea, in the firfl Dutch war, 1665, th night before an engagement." The LOVE-SONGS. 3j The King, with wonder and furprife, Will fwear the feas grow bold ; Becaufe the tides will higher rife, Than e'er they did of old : But let him know it is our tears Bring floods of grief to Whitehall flairs. With a fa, &c. Should foggy Opdam chance to know Our fad and difmal ftory ; The Dutch would fcorn fo weak a foe, And quit their fort at Goree : For what refiftance can they find From men who've left their hearts behind ? With a fa, &c. Let wind and weather do its worft, Be you to us but kind ; Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curie, No forrow we (hall find : 'Tis then no matter how things go, Or who's our friend, or who's our foe. With a fa, &c. To pafs our tedious hours away, We throw a merry main ; Or elfe at ferious ombre play ; But why mould we in vain Each others ruin thus purfue ? We were undone when we left you, With a fa, &c. D 2 But L O V E - S O N G S. But now our fears tempeftuous grow, And ciaft our hopes away ; Whilft you, regardlefs of our woe, Sit carelefs at a play : Perhaps permit fome happier man To kifs your hand, or flirt your fan. With a fa, &c. WheHi any monrnful tune you hear, That dies in every note ; As if it figh'd with each man's care, For being fo remote: Think then how often love we've made To you, when all thofe tunes were play'd. With a fa, &c. In juftice you cannot refufe, To think of our diftrefs ; When we for hopes of honour lofe Our certain happinefs ; All thofe defigns are but to prove Ourfelves more worthy of your love. With a fa, &c. And now we've told you all our loves, And likewife all our fears ; In hopes this declaration moves Some pity for our tears : Let's hear of no inconftancy, We have too much of that at tea. With a fa, la, la, la, la, SONG I O V E - S Q N G S.. 37 SONG XLIV. BY LORD LYTTELTON*. THE heavy hours are almoft paft That part my love and me : My longing eyes may hope at laft, Their only wifh to fee. But how, my Delia, will you meet The man you've loft fo long ? Will love in all your pulfes beat, And tremble on your tongue ? Will you in every look declare, Your heart is ftill the fame ; And heal each idly-anxious care, Our fears in ab fence frame ? Thus, Delia, thus I paint the fcene, When mortly we mall meet ; And try what yet remains between Of loitering time to cheat. But if the dream that fooths my mind Shall falie and groundlefs prove ; If I am doom'd at length to find You have forgot to love : * " Written in the year 1733." - D 3 All O 38 LOVE-SONGS. All I of Venus aflc, is this ; No more to let us join : But grant me here the flattering blifs, To die, and think you mine. SONG XLV. BY WILLIAM WALSH, ESQ., OF all the torments, all the cares, With which our lives are curfl j Of all the plagues a lover bears, Sure rivals are the worft ! By partners in each other kind, Afflictions eafier grow ; In love alone we hate to find Companions of our woe. Sylvia, for all the pangs you fee Are lab'ring in my breaft; I beg not you would favour me, Would you but flight the reft ! How great foe'er your rigours are, With them alone I'll cope; J can endure my own defpair, But not anothers hope. SON-G LOVE-SONGS. 39 SONG XL VI. TO CHLOE JEALOUS. BY MATHEW PRIOR E S Q-_ (" THE AUTHOR SICK.") YES, faireft proof of beautys pow'r, Dear idol of my panting heart, Nature points this my fatal hour : And I have liv'd ; and we muft part. While now I take my laft adieu, Heave thou no figh nor fhed a tear j Left yet my half-clos'd eye may view On earth an objedt worth its care. From jealoufys tormenting ftrife For ever be thy bofom freed; That nothing may difturb thy life, Content I haften to the dead. Yet when fome better-fated youth Shall with his am'rous parly move thee; Refleft one moment on his truth Who dying thus, perfifts to love thee, SONG XL VII. LOVE AND JEALOUSY. BY MR. HENRY CAREY. THOUGH cruel you feem to my pain, And hate me becaufe I am true, Yet Phillis ! you love a falfe fwain^ Who has other nymphs in his view : D 4 Enjoyment's LOVE-SONGS. Enjoyment's a trifle to him, To me what a heav'n would it be ! To him but a woman you feem ; But ah, you're an angel to me. Thofe lips which he touches in hafte, To them I for ever could grow ; Still clinging around that dear waift, Which he fpans as betide him you go. That arm, like a lily fo white, Which over his moulders you lay, My bofom could warm it all night, My lips they could prefs it all day. Were I like a monarch to reign, Were graces my fubjefts to be, I'd leave them and fly to the plain To dwell in a cottage with thee. But if I muft feel your difdain, If tears cannot cruelty drown, Oh let me not live in this pain ; But give me my death in a frown ! SONG XL VIII. WHAT fury does difturb my reft ? What hell is this within my breaft ? Now I abhor, and now I love ; And each an equal torment prove, I fee LOVE-SONGS. 41 I fee Celindas cruelty, I fee fhe loves all men but me ; I fee her falfehood, fee her pride, I fee ten thoufand faults befide ; I fee fhe flicks at nought that's ill j Yet, oh ye powers ! I love her {till. Others on precipices run, Which, blind with love, they cannot fliun, I fee my danger, fee my ruin, Yet feek, yet court my own undoing : And each new reafon I explore To hate her, makes me love her more. SONG XLIX. OF JEALOUSY. BY MR. DRYDEN*. WHAT ftate of life can be fo bleft, As love that warms a lovers breaft? Two fouls in one ; the fame defire To grant the blifs and to require : But if in heaven a hell we find, 'Tis all from thee, O Jealoufy ! 'Tis all from thee, O Jealoufy ! Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealoufy, Thou tyrant of the mind. * Jn the trsgi-conaedy of Love triumphant. All LOVE- SONGS. All other ills, though ftiarp they prove, Serve to refine and perfedl love : In abfence, or unkind difdain, Sweet hope relieves the lovers pain : But, ah, no cure but death we find To fet us free From Jealoufy : O Jealoufy ! Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealoufy, Thou tyrant of the mind. Falfe in -hy glafs all objects are, Some fet too near, and fome too far: Thou art the fire of endlefs night, The fire that burns, and gives no light. All torments of the damn'd we find In only thee, O Jealoufy ! Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealoufy, Thou tyrant of the mind. SONG L. BY EDMUND WALLER E S Q^ SAY, lovely dream, where could'ft thou find Shades to counterfeit that face ? Colours of this glorious kind Come not from any mortal place. In L O V E - S O N G S. 43 In Heaven itfelf thou fure wert dreft With that angel-like difguife ; Thus deluded am I bleft, And fee my joy with clofed eyes. But ah ! this image is too kind To be other than a dream : Cruel SacharifTas mind Never put on that fweet extreme ! Fair dream ! if thou intend'ft me grace, Change that heavenly face of thine ; Paint defpis'd love in thy face, And make it to appear like mine. Pale, wan, and meagre let it look, With a pity-moving fhape; Such as wander by the brook Of Lethe, or from graves efcape. Then to that matchlefs nymph appear, In whofe fhape thou minefl fo ; Softly in her fleeping ear, With humble words exprefs my woe. Perhaps from greatnefs, (late, and pride, Thus furprifed fhe may fall : Sleep does difproportion hide, And death refembling, equals all. SONG 44 LOVE-SONGS. SONG LI. LOVE FOR LOVES SAKE. BY MR. HENRY CAREY. I'LL range around the fhady bowers, And gather all the fweeteft flowers j I'll ftrip the garden and the grove, To make a garland for my love. When, in the fultry heat of day, My thirfty nymph does panting lay, I'll haften to the rivers brink, And drain the floods but fhe fhall drink. At night, to reft her weary head, I'll make my love a grafly bed ; And with green boughs I'll form a fliade, That nothing may her reft invade. And whilft diflblv'd in fleep (he lies, Myfelf lhall never clofe thefe eyes ; But gazing ftill with fond delight, I'll watch my charmer all the night. And then, as foon as chearful day Difpels the ; darkfome mades away, Forth to the foreft I'll repair, To feek provifion for my fair. Thus L O V E - S O N G S. 45 Thus will I fpend the day and night, Still mixing labour with delight ; Regarding nothing I endure, So I can eafe for her procure. But if the nymph, whom thus 1 love, To her fond fwain fhould faithlefs prove, I'll feek fome difmal diftant fhore, And never think of woman more. SONG LIT. BY LORD LANSDOWN. WHY cruel creature, why fo bent, To vex a tender heart ? To gold and title you relent ; Love throws in vain his dart. Let glittering fops in courts be great, For pay let armies move : Beauty fhould have no other bait, But gentle vows and love, If on thofe endlefs channs you lay The value that's their due ; Kings are themfelves too poor to pay; A thoufand worlds too few. But 46 LOVE-SONGS. But if a paffion without vice, Without difguife or art, Ah Celia ! if true love's your price, Behold it in iny heart. SONG LIII. THE fun was funk beneath the hill, The weftern clouds were lin'd with gold, The fky was clear, the winds were (till, The flocks were pent within the fold ; When from the filence of the grove, Poor Damon thus defpair'd of love : Who feeks to pluck the fragrant rofe From the bare rock or oozy beach ; Who, from each barren weed that grows, Expefts the grape or blulhing peach; With equal faith may hope to find . The truth of love in womankind. I have no herds, no fleecy care, No fields that wave with golden grain, No paftures green, or gardens fair, A damfels venal heart to gain ; Then all in -vain my fighs muft prove, For" I, alas ! have nought but love. How LOVE-SONGS. 47 How wretched is the faithful youth, Since worn ens hearts are bought and fold ; They aflc not vows of facred truth, Whene'er they figh, they figh for gold. Gold can the frowns of fcorn remove, But I, alas ! have nought but love. To buy the gems of Indias coaft, What wealth, what treafure can fuffice ? Not all their fire can ever boaft The living luftre of her eyes : For thefe the world too cheap would prove ; But I, alas ! have nought but love. O Silvia! fince nor gems, nor ore, Can with your brighter charms compare, Confi3er what I proffer's more, More feldom found, a foul fincere : Let riches meaner beauties move, Who pays thy worth, muft pay in love. SONG LIV. THE COMPLAINT. TO A SCOTCH TUNE. BY MR. OTWAY. I- Love, I doat, I rave with pain, No quiet's in my mind, Though ne'er could be a happier fwain Were Sylvia lefs unkind. For LOVE-SONGS. For when, as long her chains I've worn, I afk relief from finart, She only gives me looks of fcorn ; Alas, 'twill break my heart ! My rivals, rich in worldly {lore, May offer heaps of gold, But furely I a heaven adore, Too precious to be fold ; Can Sylvia fuch a coxcomb prize For wealth and not defert, And my poor fighs and tears defpife ? Alas, 'twill break my heart ! When like fome panting, hovering dove, I for my blifs contend, And plead the caufe of eager love, She coldly calls me friend. Ah, Sylvia ! thus in vain you ftrive To aft a healers part, 'Twill keep my lingering pain alive, Alas ! and break my heart. When on my lonely peniive bed I lay me down to reit, In hope to calm my raging head, And cool my burning breaft, Her LOVE-SONGS. 49 Her cruelty all eafe denies ; With fome fad dream I ftart, All drown'd in tears I find my eyes, And breaking feel my heart. Then rifing, through the path I rove That leads me where me dwells, Where to the fenfelefs waves my love Its mournful fttiry tells ; With fighs I dew and kifs the door, 'Till morning bids depart! Then vent ten thoufand fighs and more : Alas, 'twill break my heart ! But, Sylvia, when this conquefl's won, And I am dead and cold, Renounce the cruel deed you've done, Nor glory when 'tis told : For every lovely generous maid Will take my injur'd part, And curfe thee, Sylvia, I'm afraid, For breaking my poor heart. SONG LV. BY DR. B Y R O M. MY time, o ye Mufes I was happily fperrt, When Phebe went with me where ever I went : Ten thoufand foft pleafures I felt in my breaft ; Sure never fond Ihepherd like Colin was bleil ! VOL. I. E But 50 LOVE-SONGS. But now fhe is gone, and has left me behind, What a marvelous change on a fudden I find ! When things were as fine as could poffibly be, I thought 'twas the fpring, but, alas ! it was fhe. With fuch a companion to tend a few fheep, To rife up and play, or ta lie down and. fleep ; I was fo good-humour'd, fo chearful, and gay, My heart was as light as a feather all day. But now I fo crofs, and fo peevifh am grown, So ftrangely uneafy as never was known ; My fair one is gone, and my joys are all drown'd, And my heart I am fure it weighs more than a pound. The fountain that wont to run fweetly along, And dance to foft murmurs the pebbles among, Thou know'ft, little Cupid, if Phebe was there, 'Twas pleafure to look at, 'twas mufic to hear : But now me is abfent, I walk by its fide, And flill, as it murmurs, do nothing but chide; Muft you be fo chearful, while I go in pain ? Peace there with your bubbling, and hear me complain. When my lambkins around me would oftentimes play, And when Phebe and I were as joyful as they, How pleafant their fporting, how happy the time, When fpring, love, and beauty were all in their prime ! But now in their frolics, when by me they pafs, I fling at their fleeces an handful of grafs ; Be flill then, I cry, for it makes me quite mad, To fee you fo merry, while I am fo fad. My L O V E - S O N G S. 5.1 My dog I was ever well pleafed to fee Come wagging his tail to my fair one and me ; And Phebe was pleas'd too, and to my dog faid, Come hither, poor fellow ; and patted his head : But now, when he's fawning, I, with a four look, Cry, firrah ; and give him a blow with my crook : And I'll give him another, for why mould not Tray Be as dull as his mailer, when Phebe's away. When walking with Phebe, what fights have I feen! How fair was the flower, how frefh was the green ! What a lovely appearance the trees and the fhade, The corn-fields and hedges, and every thing made ! But fince fhe has left me, though all are ftill there, They none of them now fo delightful appear : 'Twas nought but the magic, I find, of her eyes Made fo many beautiful profpedls arife. Sweet mufic went with us both, all the wood through, The lark, linnet, throftle, and nightingale too; Winds over us whifper'd, flocks by us did bleat, And chirp went the grafshopper under our feet : But now fhe is abfent, though ftill they fmg on, The woods are but lonely, the melody's gone : Her voice in the concert, as now I have found, Gave every thing elfe its agreeable found. Rofe, what is become of thy delicate hue ? And where is the violets beautiful blue ? Does ought of its fweetnefs the blofTom beguile ? That meadow, thofe daifies, why do they not fmile ? Ah, rivals! I fee what it was that you drefl, And made yourfelyes fine for; a place in her breaft: E 2 You, 52 LOVE-SONGS. You put on your colours to pleafure her eye, To be pluck'd by her hand, Cn her bofom to die. How flowly time creeps, till my Phebe return ! While amidft the foft Zephyrs cool breezes I burn ; Methinks, if I knew whereabout he would tread, I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the lga,d, Fly fwifter, ye minutes, bring hither my dear, And reft fo much longer for't, when fhe is here. Ah, Colin ! old time is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot fafter for all thou canft fay. Will no pitying power that hears me complain, Or cure my difquiet, or foften my pain? To be cur'd, thou muft, Colin, thy paffion remove ; But what fwain is fo filly to live without love ? No, deity, bid the dear nymph to return, For ne'er was poor fhepherd fo fadly forlorn. Ah ! what fhall I do ? I fhall die with defpair ! Take heed, all ye fwains, how ye love one fo fak. SONG LVI. AH WILLOW. BY NICHOLAS ROWE E S <, TO ' HIS LADY* IK HER SICKNESS. TO the brook and the willow that heard him complain, Ah willow, willow. Poor Colin fat weeping, and told them his pain. Ah willow, willow ; ah willow, willow. Sweet LOVE-SONGS. 53 Sweet ftream, he cry'd fadly, I'll teach thee to flow, Ah willow, Sec. And the waters fhall rife to the brink with my woe. Ah willow, &c. AH reftlefs and painful poor Amoret lies, Ah willow, &c. And counts the fad moments of time as it flies : Ah willow, &c. To the nymph, my heart loves, ye foft fl umbers repair ; Ah willow, &c. Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make her your care. Ah willow, &c. Dear brook, were thy chance near her pillow to creep, Ah willow, &c. Perhaps thy foft murmurs might lull her to fleep. Ah willow, &c. Let me be kept waking, my eyes never cloie, Ah willow, &c. So the fleep that I lofe brings my fair one repofe. Ah willow, &c. But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed ; Ah willow, &c. And the lofs of my dear-one, my love, is decreed ; Ah willow, &c. If no more my fad heart by thofe eyes fhall be chear'd ; Ah willow, &c. If the voice of my warbler no more fhall be heard ; Ah willow, Sec. E 3 Believe 54 LOVE-SONGS. Believe roe, thou fair one ; thou dear one, believe, Ah willow, &c. Few fighs to thy lofs, and few tears will I give. Ah willow, &c. One fate to thy Colin and thee fhall betide, Ah willow, &c. And foon lay thy fhepherd down by thy cold fide. Ah willow, &c. Then glide, gentle brook, and to lofe thyfelf haflej Ah willow, willow. Fade thou too my willow ; this verfe is my laft : Ah willow, willow ; ah willow, willow. SONG LVII. BY DR. DALTON*. RECITATIVE. HOW gentle was my Damons air ! Like funny beams his golden hair, His voice was like the nightingales, More fweet his breath than flowery vales. How hard fuch beauties to refiga ! And yet that cruel taflc is mine. * In the mafque of Comus, AIR, LOVE-SONGS. 55 AIR. On every hill, in every grove, Along the margin of each ftream, Dear confcious fcenes of former love, I mourn, and Damon is my theme. The hills, the groves, the ftreams remain, But Damon there I feek in vain. Now to the mofly cave I fly, Where to my fwain I oft have fung, Well pleas'd the browfing goats to fpy, As o'er the airy fteep they hung. The mofly cave, the goats remain, But Damon there I feek in vain. Now through the winding vale I pafs, And figh to fee the well known made ; I weep and kifs the bended grafs, Where love and Damon fondly play'd. The vale, the made, the grafs remain, But Damon there I feek in vain. From hill, from dale, each charm is fled, Groves, flocks, and fountains pleafe no more, Each flower in pity droops its head, All nature does my lofs deplore. All, all reproach the faithlefs fwain, Yet Damon Hill I feek in vain. SONG 56 LOVE-SONGS. SONG LVIII. A PASTORAL IN FOUR PARTS. BY WILLIAM SHENSTDNE ESQ., Arbufta bumilefqiie myricte. Vi R G . I. ABSENCE. YE fhepherds fo chearful and gay, Whofe flocks never carelefsly roam j Should Corydons happen to ftray, Oh ! call the poor wanderers home. Allow me to mufe and to iigh, Nor talk of the change that ye find ; None once was fo watchful as I ; I have left my dear Phyllis behind. Now I know what it is to have ftrove With the torture of doubt and defire ; What it is, to admire and to love, And to leave her we love and admire. Ah lead forth my flock in the morn, And the damps of each evening repel ; Alas ! I am faint and forlorn : I have bade my dear Phyllis farewell, Since Phyllis vouchfaf'd me a look, I never once dreamt of my vine ; May I lofe both my pipe and my crook, Jf a knew of a kid that was mine. LOVE-SONGS. 57 I priz'd every hour that went by, Beyond all that had pleas'd me before; But now they are paft, and I figh ; And I grieve that I priz'd them no more. But why do I languifh in vain? Why wander thus pen lively here ? Oh ! why did I come from the plain, Where I fed on the fmiles of my dear? They tell me, my favourite maid, The pride of that valley, is flown ; Alas ! where with her I have ftray'd, I could wander with pleafure, alone. When forc'd the fair nymph to forago, What anguifli I felt at my heart ! Yet I thought but it might not be fo 'Twas with pain that me faw me depart. She gaz'd, as I flowly withdrew ; My path I could hardly difcern j So fweetly me bade me adieu, I thought that ihe bade me return. The pilgrim that journeys all day, To vifit fome far-diftant mrine, If he bear but a relique away, Is happy, nor heard to repine. Thus widely remov'd from the fair, Where my vows, my devotion, I owe, Soft hope is the relique I bear, And my folace whereever I go. II. HOPE. S 8 LOVE-SONGS. II. HOP E. My banks they are furnim'd with bees, Whofe murmur invites one to fleep; My grottos are maded with trees, And my hills are white-over with fheep. I feldom have met with a lofs, Such health do my fountains beftow; My fountains all border'd with mofs, Where the hare-bells and violets grow. Not a pine in my grove is there fcen, But with tendrils of woodbine is bound : Not a beeches more beautiful green, But a fweet-briar entwines it around. Not my fields in the prime of the year, More charms than my cattle unfold ; Not a brook that is limpid and clear, But it glitters with fifties of gold. One would think me might like to retire To the bower I have labour'd to rear ; Not a fhrub that I heard her admire, But I hailed and planted it there. Oh how fudden the jefTamine ftrove With the lilac to render it gay ! Already it calls for my love, To prune the wild branches away. From the plains, from the woodlands and groves, What ftrains of wild melody flow ! . How the nightingales warble their loves From thickets of rofes that blow ! And LOV. E-SONGS. 59 And when her bright form mall appear, Each bird fhall harmonioufly join In a concert fo foft and fo clear, As me may not be fond to refign. I have found out a gift for my fair ; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed : But let me that plunder forbear, She will fay 'twas a barbarous deed. For he ne'er could be true, me averr'd, Who could rob a poor bird of its young : And I lov'd her the more when I heard Such tendernefs fall from her tongue. I have heard her with fweetnefs unfold How that pity was due to a dove : That it ever attended the bold, And fhe call'd it the fifter of love. But her words fuch a pleafure convey, So much I her Accents adore, Let her {peak, and whatever {he fay, Methinks I ihould love her the more. Can a bofom fo gentle remain Unmov'd, when her Corydon fighs ? Will a nymph that is fond of the plain, Thefe plains and this valley defpife ? Dear regions of filence and made ! Soft fcenes of contentment and eafe ! Where I could have pleafingly ftray'd, Jf aught, in her abfence, could pleafe. But 60 LOVE-SONGS. But where does my Phyllida ftray ? And where are her grots and her bow'rs ? Are the groves and the vallies as gay, And the fliepherds as gentle as ours ? The groves may perhaps be as fair, And the face of the vallies as fine, The fwains may in manners compare, .But their love is not equal to mine. III. SOLICITUDE, Why will you my paffion reprove ? Why term it a folly to grieve ? Ere I fliow you the charms of my love, She is fairer than you can believe. With her mien me enamours the brave : With her wit me engages the free ; With her modefty pleafes the grave ; She is ev'ry way pleafing to me. you that have been of her train, Come and join in my amorous lays ; 1 could lay down my life for the fwain, That will fing but a fong in her praife. When he fings, may the nymphs of the towa Come trooping, and liften the while ; Nay on him let not Phyllida frown j But I cannot allow her to fmile. For when Paridel tries in the dance Any favour with Phyllis to find, O how, with one trivial glance, Might fhe ruin the peace of my mind ! In L O V E - S O N G S. In ringlets he drefles his hair, And his crook is be-ftudded around ; And his pipe oh may Phyllis beware Of a magic there is in the found. 'Tis his with mock paflion to glow ; 'Tis his in fmooth tales to unfold, How her face is as bright as the fnow, And her bofom, be fure, is as cold ! How the nightingales labour the ftrain, With the notes of his charmer to vie j How they vary their accents in vain, Repine at her triumphs, and die. To the grove or the garden he ftrays, And pillages every fweet ; Then, fuiting the wreath to Ms lays, He throws it at Phyllises feet. O Phyllis, he whifpers, more fair, More fweet than the jeflamines flow'r ! What are pinks, in a morn, to compare ? What is eglantine, after a fliow'r ? Then the lily no longer is white ; Then the rofe is depriv'd of its bloom ; Then the violets die with defpight ; And the woodbines give up their perfume. Thus glide the foft numbers along, And he fancies no fhepherd his peer j Yet I never mould envy the fong, Were not Phyllis to lend it an ear. Let 6z LOVE- SONGS. Let his crook be with hyacinths bound, So Phyllis the trophy defpife ; Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd, So they mine not in Phyllises eyes. The language that flows from the heart Is arranger to Paridels tongue ; Yet may (he beware of his art, Or fure I muft envy the fong. IV. DISAPPOINTMENT. Ye Ihepherds, give ear to my lay, And take no more heed of my fheep : They have nothing to do, but to ftray ; I have nothing to do but to weep. Yet do not my folly reprove ; She was fair and my paffion begun ; She fmil'd and I could not but love ; She is faithlefs and I am undone. Perhaps I was void of all thought ; Perhaps it was plain to forefee, That a nymph fo complete would be fought By a fwain more engaging than me. Ah ! love ev'ry hope can infpire ; It banimes wifdom the while ; And the lip of the nymph we admire Seems for ever adorn'd with a fmile. She LOVE-SONGS. 63 She is faithlefs, and I am undone ; Ye that witnefs the woes I endure ; Let reafon inftruft you to Ihun What it cannot inftruft you to cure. Beware tow ye loiter in vain Amid nymphs of an higher degree : It is not for me to explain How fair and how fickle they be. Alas ! from the day that we met, What hope of an end to my woes ? When I cannot endure to forget The glance that undid my repofe. Yet time may diminiih the pain : The flpwer, and the fhrub, and the tree, Which I rear'd for her pleafure in vain, In time may have comfort for me. The Aveets of a dew-fprinkled rofe, The found of a murmuring ftream, The peace which from folitude flows, Henceforth fhall be Cory dons theme. High tranfports are mown to the fight, But we are not to find them our own ; Fate never beftow'd fuch delight, As I with my Phyllis had known. ye woods, fpread your branches apace ; To your deepeft recefles I fly ; 1 would hide with the beafts of the chace ; I would vanifh from every eye. Yet 64 LOVE-SONGS. Vet my reed ftiall refound through the grove With the fame fad complaint it begun ; How me fmil'd, and I could not but love j Was faithlefs, and I am undone ! SONG LIX. COLINS COMPLAINT. BY NICHOLAS ROWE E S Q^. To the tune of,- Grim King of the gholts. ESPAIRING befide a clear ftream, D A fhepherd forfaken was laid ; And while a falfe nymph was his theme, A willow ftrpported his head. The wind that blew over the plain, To his fighs with a figh did reply ; And the brook, in return to his pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by. Alas, filly fwain that I was ! Thus fadly complaining he cried, When firft I beheld that fair face, 'Twere better by far I had died. She talk'd, and I blefs'd the dear tongue ; When me fmil'd, 'twas a pleafure too great : I-liften'd, and cried, when me fung, Was nightingale ever fo fweet ? * The author, in this beautiful and pathetic ballad, alludes to his own fituation with the countefs dowager of Warwick, and to his fuccefsful lit ai mr. Addifon. How LOVE^SONGS. 65 How foolifh was I to believe She could doat on fo lowly a clown ; Or that her fond heart would not grieve To for fake the fine folk of the town ? To think that a beauty fo gay, So kind and fo conftant would prove; Or go clad like our maidens in gray, Or live in a cottage on love ? What though I have fkill to complain, Though the Mufes my temples have crown'd j What though when they hear my foft drain, The virgins fit weeping around ! Ah Colin ! thy hopes are in vain, Thy pipe and thy laurel refign j Thy falfe one inclines to a fwain, Whofe mufic is fweeter than thine. And you, my companions fo dear, Who forrow to fee me betray'd, Whatever I fuffer, forbear, Forbear toaccufe the falfe maid. Though through the wide world I mould range, 'Tis in vain from my fortune to fly : 'Twas hers to be falfe and to change, 'Tis mine to be conftant and die. If while my hard fate I fuflain, In her breaft any pity is found, Let her come with the nymphs of the plain, And fee me laid low in the ground, VOL, L F The 66 LOVE- SONGS. The laft humble boon that I crave, Is to made me with cyprefs and yew ; And when fhe looks down on my grave, Let her own that her fhepherd was true, Then to her new love let her go, And deck her in golden array ; Be fineft at ev'ry fine mow, And frolic it all the long day : While Colin, forgotten and gone, No more mall be talk'd of, or feen, Unlefs when beneath the pale moon, His ghoft fiiall glide over the green > SONG LX. BY MR. OTWAY*. COME all ye youths whofe hearts e'er bled By cruel beautys pride, Bring each a garland on his head, Let none his forrows hide ; But hand in hand around me move, Singing the faddeft tales of love ; And fee, when your complaints ye join r If all your wrongs can equal mine. In the tragedy of The Orphan. The LOVE-SONGS. & t The happieft mortal once was I> My heart no forrow knew ; Pity the pain with which I die, But afk not whence it grew ; Yet if a tempting fair you find, That's very lovely, very kind, Though bright as heav'n vvhofe ftamp me bears. Think on my fate and fhun her (hares. O. SONG LXI. GRIM king of the ghofts make hafte, And bring hither all your train : See how the pale moon does wafte, And juft now is in the wane. Come, you night hags with all your charms, And reveling witches away And hug me clofe in your arms, To you my refpels I'll pay. I'll court you, and think you fair, Since love does diftracl my brain ; I'll go, and I'll wed the night-mare, And kifs her, and kifs her again : But if me prove peevifh and proud, Then a pize on her love, let her go j I'll feek me a winding fhroud, And down to the fhades below, F 2 A lunacy 63 LOVE-SONGS. A lunacy fad I endure Since reafon departs away ; I call to thofe hags for a cure, As knowing not what I fay. The beauty whom I do adore Now flights me with fcorn and difdain j I never fhall fee her more, Ah ! how fhall I bear my pain ? I ramble and range about To find out my charming faint; Whilft flie at my grief does flout, And laughs at my loud complaint. Diftradlion I fee is my doom, Of this I am now too fure ; A rival is got in my room, While torments i do endure. Strange fancies do fill my head, While wandering in defpair, I am to the defart led, Expecling to find her there. Methinks in a fpangled cloud I fee her enthroned on high ; Then to her I cry aloud, And labour to reach the fky. When thus I have raved a while, And wearied myfelf in vain, I lie on the barren foil, And bitterly do complain. Till LOVE-SONGS. 69 Till flumber hath quieted me, In forrow I figh and weep ; The clouds are my canopy, To cover me while I fleep. I dream that my charming fair Is then in my rivals bed, Whofe treffes of golden hair Are on the fair pillow befpread. Then this doth my paffion inflame, I ftart, and no longer can lie ; Ah ! Sylvia, art thou not to blame To ruin a lover ? I cry. Grim king of the ghofts be true, And hurry me hence away, My languishing life to you A tribute I freely pay: To the Elyfian fhades I poft, In hopes to be freed from care, Where many a bleeding ghoft Is hovering in the air. O. SONG LXII. BY SIR CAR SCROOPE*. ONE night when all the village flept, Myrtillos fad defpair, The wretched mepherd waking kept To tell the woods his care j * In Lees tragedy of Mithridates King of Pontus. F 3 Begone LOVE. SONGS. Begone (faid he) fond thoughts, begone ! Eyes, give your forrows o'er! Why fhould you wafte your tears for one, Who thinks on you no more ? Yet, oh ! ye birds, ye flocks, ye pow'rs, That dwell within this grove, Can tell how many tender hours We here have pafs'd in love! Yon ftars above (my cruel foes !) Have heard how fhe has fworn, A thoufand times, that like to thofe, Her flame mould ever burn ! But fince (he's loft oh ! let me have My wifh, and quickly die ; Jn this cold bank I'll make a grave, And there for ever lie : Sad nightingales the watch mall keep, And kindly here complain. Then down the mepherd lay to fleep, But never rofe again. SONG LXIII. A PASTORAL ELEGY. AH, Damon, dear mepherd, adieu! By love and firft nature allied, Together in fondnefs we grew; Ah, would we together had died ! For LOVE- SONGS. 71 For thy faith which refembled my own, For thy foul which was fpotlefs and true, For the joys we together have known, Ah, Damon, dear fhepherd, adieu 1 What blifs can hereafter be mine ? Whomever engaging, I fee, To his friendlhip I ne'er can incline, For fear I fhould mourn him like thee. Though the Mufes fhould crown me with art, Though honour and fortune mould join ; Since thou art denied to my heart, What blifs can hereafter be mine ? Ah, Damon, dear fhepherd, farewell ! Thy grave with fad ofiers I'll bind ; Though no more in one cottage we dwell, I can keep thee for ever in mind : Each morning I'll vifit alone His afhes who lov'd me fo well, And murmur each eve o'er his ttone, " Ah, Damon, dear fhepherd, farewell 1" SONG LXIV. BY MR. EDWARD MOORE. HARK! hark ! 'tis a voice from the tomb ! Come, Lucy, it cries, come away j The grave of thy Collin has room, To reft thee befide his cold clay. F 4 I come, LOVE-SONGS. I come, my dear fhepherd, I come ; Ye friends and companions, adieu ; I hafte to my Collins dark home, To die on his bofom fo true. All mournful the midnight bell rung, When Lucy, fad Lucy arofe ; And forth to the green-turf me fprung, Where Collins pale afhes repofe. All wet with the nights chilling dew, Her bofom embrac'd the cold ground, While ftormy winds over her blew, And night-ravens croak'd all around. How long, my lov'd Coll in, me cried, How long muft thy Lucy complain ? How long mall the grave my love hide ? How long ere it join us again ? For thee thy fond (hepherdefs liv'd, With thee o'er the world would me fly, For thee has fhe forrow'd and griev'd, For thee would me lie down and die. Alas ! what avails it how dear Thy Lucy was once to her fwain ! Her face like the lily fo fair, And eyes that gave light to the plain ! The ihcpherd that lov'd her is gone, That face and thofe eyes charm no more, And Lucy forgot and alone, To death mall her Collin deplore. While LOVE. SONGS. 73 While thus fhe lay funk in defpair, And mourn'd to the echos around, Inflam'd all at once grew the air, And thunder fhook dreadful the ground. I hear the kind call, and obey, Oh, Collin, receive me, me cried! Then breathing a groan o'er his clay, She hung on his tomb-ftone and died. SONG LXV. BY MR. CAY*. WAS when the feas were roaring With hollow blafts of wind; A damfel lay deploring, All on a rock reclin'd. Wide o'er the foaming billows She caft a wiftful look ; Her head was crown'd with willows That trembled o'er the brook. Twelve months are gone and over, And nine long tedious days. Why didft thou, vent'rous lover, Why didft thou truft the feas ? Ceafe, ccafe thou cruel ocean, And let my lover reft: Ah ! what's thy troubled motion To that within my breaft ? In The What D'ye call it. The 74 LOVE-SONGS. The merchant, robb'd of pleafure, Views tempefts in defpair ; But what's the lofs of treafure To lofing of my dear ? Should you fome coaft be laid on, Where gold and di'monds grow, You'd find a richer maiden, But none that loves you fo.' How can they fay that nature Has nothing made in vain ; Why then beneath the water Do hideous rocks remain ? No eyes thefe rocks difcover, That lurk beneath the deep, To wreck the wand'ring lover, And leave the maid to weep. All melancholy lying, Thus wail'd me for her dear} Repaid each blaft with fighing, Each billow with a tear : When o'er the white wave Hooping, His floating corpfe me fpied j Then like a lily drooping, She bow'd her head, and die REEDOM is a real treafure, J/ Love a dream, all falfe and vain ; Short, uncertain, is the pleafure, Sure and lafting is the pain. A fmcere and tender paflion Some ill-planet over-rules ; Ah, how blind is inclination ! Fate and women doat on fools. SONG XVII. BY SIR GEORGE ETHEREGI. YE happy fwains, whofe hearts are free From Loves imperial chain, Take warning, and be taught by me, T'avoid th' inchanting pain. Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks, Fierce winds to bloflbms prove, To carelefs feamen hidden rocks, To human quiet love. Fly the fair fex, if blifs you prize ; The fnake's beneath the flower : Who ever gaz'd on beauteous eyes, That tailed quiet more ? H 4 How 104 L O V E - S O N G S. How faithlefs is the lovers joy ! How conftant is his care ! The kind with falfehood do deftroy, The cruel with defpair. SONG XVIII. IMITATED FROM CHAUCER. FROM fweet bewitching tricks of love Young men your hearts fecure, Left from the paths of fenfe you rove, In dotage premature. Look at each lafs through wifdoms glafs, Nor truft the naked eye : Gallants beware, look {harp, take care, The blind eat many a fly. Not only on their hands and necks The borrow'd white you'll find ; Some belles, when intereft diretts, Can even paint the mind ; Joy in diftrefs they can exprefs, Their very tear: can lie : Gallants beware, look fharp, take care, The blind eat many a fly. There's not a fpinfter in the realm But all mankind can cheat, Pown to the cottage from the helm, The learn'd, the brave, the great : With L O V E - S O N G S. 105 With lovely looks, and golden hooks, T'entangle us they try : Gallants beware, look fharp, take care, The blind eat many a fly. Could we with ink the ocean fill, Was earth of parchment made ; Was every fingle ftick a quill, Each man a fcribe by trade ;- To write the tricks of half the fex Would fuck that ocean dry : Gallants beware, look iharp, take care, The blind eat many a fly. SONG XIX. CH AUGERS RECANTATION. A PANEGYRIC ON THE LADIES. BY MR. CHRISTOPHER SMART. RECITATIVE. OLD Chaucer once to this re-echoing grove* Sung of ' The fweet bewitching tricks of love;" But foon he found he'd fullied his renown, And arm'd each charming hearer with a frown : * Spring-gardens, Vauxhall, where the foregoing ballad was fung. Then io6 L O V E - S O N G 5. Then felf-condernn'd anew his lyre he ftrung, And in repentant ftrains this recantation fung, Long fince unto her native fky Fled heav'n-defcended Conftancy ; Nought now that's ftable's to be had, The world's grown mutable and mad : Save Women - - - they, we muft confefs, Are miracles of ftedfaftnefs ; And ev'ry witty, pretty dame Bears for her motto STILL THE SAME, The flowers that in the vale are feen, The white, the yellow, blue and green, In brief complexion idly gay Still fet with every fetting day, Difpers'd by wind, or chill'd by froft, Their odour's gone, their colour loft : But what is true, though paffing ftrange, The Women never - - - fade or change. The Wife Man faid that all was vain, And follies univerfal reign ; Wifdom its vot'ries oft enthralls, Riches torment, and pleafure palls ; And 'tis, good lack, a gen'ral rule. That each man foon or late's a fool : In Women 'tis th' exception lies, For they are wondrous, wondrous wife, This LOVE. SONGS. This earthly ball with noife abounds, And from its emptinefs it founds ; Fame's deaf'ning din, the hum of men, The lawyers plea, the poet's pen : But Women here no one fufpeds, Silence diftinguifhes that fex ; For, poor dumb things! fo meek's their mould, You fcarce can hear 'em - - - when they fcold. CHORUS. An hundred mouths, an hundred tongue*, An hundred pair of iron lungs, Five heralds, and five thoufand criers, With throats whofe accent never tires, Ten fpeaking-trumpets, of a fize Would denfnefs with their din furprife, Your praife, fweet nymphs, mall fing and fay, Ajtt! :hofe that will believe it - - - may. 107 LOVE-SONGS. CLASS III. SONG I. DISDAIN RETURNED. BY THOMAS CAREW E S Q^. HE that loves a rofy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from ftar-like eyes doth feek Fuel to maintain his fires; As old Time makes thefe decay, So his flames muft wafte away. Sewer to King Charles I, But L O V E - S O N G S. 109 But a fmooth and ftedfaft mind, Gentle thoughts, and calm defires, Hearts with equal love combin'd, Kindle never dying fires. Where thefe are not, I defpife Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. No tears, . Celia, now (hall win My refolv'd heart to return ; 1 have fearch'd thy foul within, And find nought but pride, and fcorn ; I have learn'd thy arts, and now Can difdain as much as thou. Some power in my revenge convey, That love to her I caft away. SONG II. BY WILLIAM PULTENEY "ESQ*. VAIN are the charms of white and red, Which paint the blooming fair ; Give me the nymph vvhofe fnow is fpread Not o'er her breaft, but hair. Of fmoother cheeks the winning grace, With open force defies ; But in the wrinkles of her face Cupid in ambufh lies. Afterwards earl of Bath. If no LOVE-SONGS. If naked eyes fet hearts on blaze And amorous warmth infpire ; Through glafs, who darts her pointed rays, Lights up a fiercer fire. Nor rivals, nor the train of years, My peace or blifs deftroy ; Alive, me gives no jealous fears, And dead, me crowns my joy. SONG III. THOUGH, Flavia, to my warm defire You mean no kind return, Yet ftill with undiminifh'd fire You wifh to fee me burn. Averfe my anguifh to remove, You think it wondrous right, That I love on, for ever love, And you for ever flight. But you and I mall ne'er agree, So, gentle nymph, adieu ; Since you no pleafure have for me, I'll have no pain for you. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. in SONG IV. B BLIND A, fee from yonder flow'rs The bee flies loaded to its cell ; Can you perceive what it devours ? Are they impair'd in fhow or fmell ? So, though I robb'd you of a kifs, Sweeter than their ambrofial dew, Why are you angry at my blifs ? Has it at all impoverifh'd you ? 'Tis by this cunning I contrive, In fpite of your unkind referve, To keep my famifh'd love alive, Which you inhumanly would itarve. SONG V. THE SELF- BANISHED. BY EDMUND WALLER E S Q. IT is not that I love you lefs, Than when before your feet I lay : But, to prevent the fad increafe Of hopelefs love, I keep away. LOVE-SONGS. In vain, alas ! for every thing, Which I have known belong to you, Your form does to my fancy bring, And makes my old wounds bleed anew. Who in the fpring, from the new fun, Already has a fever got, Too late begins thofe (hafts to fhun Which Phoebus through his veins has mot ; Too late he would the pain aflvvage, And to thick fhadows does retire : About with him he bears the rage, And in his tainted blood the fire. But vow'd I liave, and never muft Your banifh'd fervant trouble you : For if I break, you may miftruft The vow I made to love you too. SONG VI. YES, Daphne, in your face I find, Thofe charms by which my heart's betray'd ; Then let not your difdain unbind The prifoner that your eyes have made : She that in love makes leaft defence, Wounds ever with the fureft dart ; Beauty may captivate the fenfe, But kindnefs only gains the heart. 'Tis L O V E - S O N G S. fTis kindnefs, Daphne, muft maintain The empire that you once have won j When beauty does like tyrants reign, Its fubjedls from their duty run : Then force me riot to be untrue, Left I, compell'd by gen'rous fhame, Caft off my loyalty to you, To gain a glorious rebels name. SONG VII. BY MR. JOHN HOW. IN Chloris all foft charms agree, Inchanting humour, powerful wit, Beauty from affectation free, And for eternal empire fit. Wheree'er me goes Love waits her eyes, The women envy, men adore ; But did me lefs the triumph prize, She would deferve the conqueft more. The pomp of love fo much prevails, She begs, what elfe none would deny her, Makes fuch advances with her eyes, The hope fhe gives prevents defire ; Catches at every trifling heart, Seems warm with every glimm'ring flame, The common prey fo deads the dart, It fcarce can pierce a noble game. VOL, I. I Jcoul4 LOVE- SONGS. I could lie ages at her feet, Adore her, carelefs of my pain, With tender vows her rigours meet, Defpair, love on, and not complain. My paflion, from all change fecure, No favours raife, no frown controuls, I any torment can endure, But hoping with a crowd of fools. SONG vm. BY MR. MOSES MENDEZ*. YOU fay, at your feet I have wept in defpair, And vow'd that no angel was ever fo fair : How could you believe all the nonfenfe I fpoke ? What know we of angels ? I meant it in joke. I next ftand indi&ed for fwearing to love, And that nothing but death mould my paflion remove I have lik'd you a twelvemonth : a calendar year : And not yet contented ! Have patience my dear. * In the mufical entertainment of The Cbaplet. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. 115 SONG IX. INGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED. BY THOMAS CAREW E S Q^ KNOW Celia, (fmce thou art fo proud,) 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown : Thou hadft, in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties liv'd unknown, Had not my verfe exhal'd thy name, And with it impt the wings of fame. That killing power is none of thine f I gave it to thy voice and eyes : Thy fweets, thy graces, all are mine ; Thou art my ftar, fhin'ft in my fkies ; Then dart not, from thy borrow'd fphere, Lightning on him that fix'd thee there. Tempt me with fuch affrights no more, Left what I made I uncreate : Let fools thy myftic forms adore, I'll know thee in thy mortal ftate. Wife poets that wrapp'd Truth in tales, Knew her themfelves through all her veils. lz SONG ,16 L O V E - S O N G S., SONG X. TO A LADY MORE CRUEL THAN FAIR. BY MR. VANBROOK. WHY d'ye with fuch difdain refufe An humble lovers plea? Since Heaven denies you power to chufe, You ought to value me. Ungrateful miftrefs of a heart, Which I fo freely gave ; Though weak your bow, though blunt your dart, I foon refign'd your flave. Nor was I weary of your reign, 'Till you a tyrant grew, And feem'd regardlefs of my pain, As nature feem'd of you. When thoufands with unerring eyes Your beauty would decry, What graces did my love devife, To give their truths the lie ? To every grove I told your charms, In you my heav'n I plac'd, Propofing pleafures in your arms, Which none but I could tafte. For L O V E - S O N G S. 117 For me t' admire, at fuch a rate, So damn'd a face, will prove You have'as little caufe to hate, As I had caufe to love. SONG XI. A FAREWELL TO LOVE. BY SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. ONCE more Loves mighty charms are broke, His ftrength and cunning I defy ; Once more I have thrown off his yoke, And am a man, and do defpife the boy. Thanks to her pride, and her difdain, And all the follies of a fcornful mind : I'd ne'er poflefs'd my heart again, If fair Miranda had been kind. Welcome, fond wanderer, as eafe, And plenty to a wretch in pain, That worn with want and a difeafe, Enjoys his health, and all his friends again. Let others wafte their time and youth, Watch and look pale, to gain a peevifli maid, And learn too late this dear-bought truth, At length they're fure to be betray'd. I 3 SONG ii8 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XII. THE RECONCILEMENT. BY THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, COME, let us now refolve at lafl To live and love in quiet : We'll tie the knot fo very faft, That time mall ne'er untie it. The trueft joys they feldom prove, Who free from quarrels live ; J Tis the moil tender part of love Each other to forgive. When leaft I feem'd concern'd, I took No pleafure, nor no reft ; And when I feign'd an angry look, Alas ! I lov'd you beft. Say but the fame to me, you'll find How bleft will be our fate ;. Oh, to be happy, to be kind, Sure, never is too late. SONG LOVE- SONGS. SONG XIII. BY MR. CONGREVE. FALSE though fhe be to me and love, I'll ne'er purfue revenge; For ftill fhe charmer I approve, Though I deplore her change. In hours of blifs we oft have met, They could not always laft ; And though the prefent I regret, I'm grateful for the paft. SONG XIV. BY MR. ADDISON*. IF 'tis joy to wound a lover, How much more to give him eafe, When his paffion you difcover ? Ah ! how pleafing 'tis to pleaio : The blifs returns, and we receive Tranfports greater than we give. * In the opera of Rofamond. 14 SONG 119 126 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XV. LOVE FOR LOVE. BY SIR FULKE GREVILL, LORD BROOKE, AWAY with thefe felf-loving lads, Whom Cupids arrow never glads ! Away poor fouls, that figh and weep, In love of thofe that lie afieep ! For Cupid is a merry god, And forceth none to kifs the rod. Sweet Cupids (hafts like deftiny Do caufelefs good or ill decree ; Defert is borne out of his bo\v, Reward upon his wing doth go ! What fools are they that have not known, That Love likes no laws but his own ? My fongs they be of Cynthias praife, I wear her rings on holidays, In every tree I write her name, And every day I read the fame. Where Honour Cupids rival is There miracles are feen of his ! If Cynthia crave her ring of me, I blot her name out of the tree : If doubt do darken things held dear, Then well-fare nothing once a year ! For many run, but one muit win ! Fools only hed^e .the cuckow in ! The LOVE- SONGS. The worth that worthinefs mould move Is love, that is the bow of Love ; And love as well the fofter can, As can the mighty noble-man. Sweet faint, 'tis true, you worthy be : Yet, without love, nought worth to me. SONG XVI. BY JOHN BULTEEL*. CHLORIS, 'twill be for cithers reft Truly to know each others breaft ; I'll make th'obfcureft part of mine Tranfparent, as I would have thine : If you will deal but fo with me, We foon mall part, or foon agree. Know then, though you were twice as fair, If it could be, as now you are ; And though the graces of your mind With a refembling luftre ftiin'd ; Yet, if you lov'd me not, you'd fee I'd value thofe as you do me. * A perfon, of whom, it is believed, nothing more is known, than tht he was the collector of a fmall mifcellany, published about the middle oftht laft century, whence this and another fong are extracted, both of which were afcribed to him by manufcript notes in a copy the editor has feen : it was therefor but juftice to prefix bis name. Though 122 L O V E - S O N G S. Though I a thoufand times had fworn My paffion mould tranfcend your fcorn ; And that your bright triumphant eyes Create a flame that never dies; Yet, if to me you prov'd untrue, Thofe oaths mould prove as falfe to you . If love I vow'd to pay for hate, Twas, I confefs, a mere deceit ; Or that my flame fhould deathlefs prove, 'Twas but to render fo your love : I bragg'd as cowards ufe to do, Of dangers they'll ne'er run into. And now my tenets I have fhow'd, If you think them too great a load ; T' attempt your change were but in vain, The conqueft not being worth the pain : With them I'll other nymphs fubdue ; 'Tis too much to lofe time and you. SONG XVII. BY MR. DRYDEN*. FAIR Iris I love, and hourly I die, But not for a lip, nor a languishing eye j She's fickle and falfe, and there we agree, For I am as falfe and as fickle as fhe ; * In the comedy of Amphitryon^ We LOVE-SONGS. 123 We neither believe what either can fay, And neither believing, we neither betray. 'Tis civil to fwear, and fay things of courfe; We. mean not the taking for better for vvorfe: When prefent we love ; when abfent agree; I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me : The legend of Love no couple can find, So eafy to part, or fo equally join'd. SONG XVIII. BY MR. MATHEW CONCANEN. I Love thee, by heavens, I cannot fay more ; Then fet not my paffion a cooling ; If thou yield'ft not at once I muft e'en give thee o'er, For I'm but a novice at fooling. What my love wants in words, it mall make up in deeds: Then why mould we ,wafle time in fluff, child ? A performance, you wot well, a promife exceeds, And a word to the wife is enough, child. I know how to love, and to make that love known, But I hate all protefting and arguing : Had a goddefs my heart, me mould e'en lie alone, If fhe made many words to a bargain. I'm a quaker in love, and but barely affirm Whate'er my fond eyes have been faying : Prithee, be thou fo too ; feek for no better term, But e'en throw thy yea or thy nay in. I cannot iz4 L O V E - S O N G 5. I cannot bear love, like a chancery fuit, The age of a patriarch depending ; Then pluck up a fpirit, no longer be mute, Give it, one way or other, an ending. Long courtfhip's the vice of a phlegmatic fool, Like the grace of -fanatical tinners, Where the ftomachs are loft, and the victuals grow cool, Before men fit down to their dinners. SONG XIX. BY EUSTACE BUD CELL ESQ. I'M not one of your fops, who to pleafe a coy lafs, Can lie whining and pining, and look like an afs. Life is dull without love, and not worth the poflefling ; But fools make a curfe what was meant for a bleffing. While his godfhip's not rude, I'll allow him my breaft ; But^ by Jove, out he goes, mould he once break my reft. I can toy with a girl for an hour, to allay The flufter of -youth, or the ferment of May ; But muft beg her excufe, not to bear pain or anguifli ; For that's not to love, by her leave, but to languifh. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. 125 SONG XX. BY SIR RICHARD STEEL*. LET not love on me beftow Soft diftrefs, and tender woe; I know none but fubftantial blifles, Eager glances, folid kifles. I know not what the lovers feign Of finer pleafure mix'd with pain ; Then prithee give me, gentle boy, None of thy grief, but all thy joy. SONG XXI. MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED. BY THOMAS CAREW E S Q^ GIVE me more love, or more difdain; The torrid, or the frozen zone Brings equal eafe unto my pain ; The temperate affords me none : Either extreme, of love, or hate, Is fweeter than a calm eftate. Give me a ftorm ; if it be love, Like Danae in a golden ihow'r I fwim in pleafure ; if it prove Difdain, that torrent will devour * In(the comedy of The Funeral. My 126 LOVE-SONGS. My vulture hopes ; and he's poflefs'd Of Heav'n, that's but from hell releas'd : Then crown my joys, or cure my pain ; Give me more love, or more difdain. SONG XXII. DISPRAISE OF LOVE, AND LOVERS FOLLIES, BY FRANCIS DAVISON*. IF love be life, I long to die, Live they that lift for me : And he that gains the moft thereby, A fool, at leaft {hall be. But he that feels the foreft fits, Scapes with no lefs than lofs of wits : Unhappy life they gain, Which love do entertain. In day by fained looks they live, By lying dreams by night, Each frown a deadly wound doth give, Each fmile a falfe delight, * Son of William Davifon, fecretary to Queen Elizabeth, who fuffered fo much through that princcftes caprice and cruelty in the tragical affair of Mary Queen of Scots, If't LOVE-SONGS. 127 If 't hap the lady pleafant feem, It is for others love they deem : If void me feem of joy, Difdain doth make her coy. Such is the peace that lovejs find, Such is the life they lead; Blown here and there with every wind, Like flowers in the mead. Now war, now peace, now war again j Defire, defpair, delight, difdain : Though dead, in midft of life ; In peace, and yet at ftrife. SONG XXIII. BY GEORGE WITHER*. SHALL I, wafting in defpair, Die becaufe a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care, Caufe anothers rofy are ; Be fhe fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May ; If fhe be not fo to me, What care I how fair fhe be. * A voluminous writer in the earlier part of the laft century. From his long, dull, puritanical rhimes, he has acquired the name and character of the Englifh Bavius. His more juvenile pieces, however, of which the above is a fpecimen, would cot discredit the belt writer of (hat age. Should 12* L O V E - S O N G S. Should my heart be griev'd or pin'd, Caufe I fee a woman kind ? Or a well difpofed nature, Joined with a lovely feature ? Be me meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican ; If fhe be not fo to me, What care I how kind fhe be. Shall a womans virtues move Me to perifh for her love ? Or, her well-defervings known, Make me quite forget mine own ? Be fhe with that goodnefs bleft, Which may gain her, name of Beft ; If fhe be not fuch to me, What care I how good fhe be. Caufe her fortune feems too high, Shall I play "the fool, and die ? Thofe that bear a noble mind, Where they want of riches find, Think what with them, they would do, That without them dare to woo : And, unlefs that mind I fee, What care I though great fhe be. Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more defpair : If fhe love me, this believe, I will die, ere fhe fhall grieve. If LOVE- -SONGS. 129 If (he flight me when I woo ; I can fcorn and let her go : For, if flie be not for me, What care I for whom me be. 1 SONG BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH, SHALL I, like an hermit, dwell On a rock or in a cell, Calling home the fmalleft part That is miffing of my heart, To beftow it, where I may Meet a rival every day ? If me undervalues me, What care I how fair flie be. Were her trefles angel gold j If a ftranger may be bold, Unrebuked, unafraid, To convert them to a braid, And, with little more ado, Work them into bracelets too ; If the mine be grown fo free, What care I how rich it be. Were her hands as rich a prize As her hairs or precious eyes ; VOL. I. K If j 3 o LOVE-SONGS, If flie lay them out to take Kifles for good-manners fake j And let every lover fkip From her hand unto her lip ; If me feem not chafte to me, What care I how chafte me be. No, me mud be perfect fhow, In effel as well as mow, Warming but as fnow-balls do, Not like fire by burning too ; But when {he by chance ha,th got To her heart a fecond lot ; Then, if others mare with me, Farewell her, whate'er me be. SONG XXV. BY SIR JOHN SUCKLING. WHY fo pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee why fo pale ? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail ? Prithee why fo pale ? Why fu dull and mute, young finner ? Prithee why fo mute ? Will, when fpeaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't ? Prithee why fo mute ?, Quit, L O V E - S O N G S, Quit, quit for fhame ; this will not move, This cannot take her ; If of herfelf (he will not love, Nothing can make her; The devil take her. SONG XXVI. YE little Loves, that round her wait, To bring me tidings of my fate j As Celia on her pillow lies, Ah ! gently whifper, Strephon dies. If this will not her pity move, And the proud fair difdains to love; Smile, and fay, 'tis all a lie, And haughty Strephon fcorns to die. SONG XXVII. BY SIR JOHN SUCKLINGj T IS now fince I fat down before That foolifh fort, a heart, (Time ftrangely fpent) a year, or more, And- flill I did my part : K z Made L O V - S O N G S. Made my approaches, from her hand Unto her lip did rife, And did already underftand The language of the eyes. Proceeded on with no lefs art, My tongue was engineer j I thought to undermine the heart By whifpering in the ear. When this did nothing, I brought down Great cannon-oaths, and fhot A thoufand thoufand to the town, And fiill it yielded not. I then refolv'd to ftarve the place, By cutting off all kifles, Praying and gazing on her face, And all fuch little bliffes. To draw her out, and from her ftrength, I drew all batteries in : And brought myfelf to lie at length. As if no fiege had been. When I had done what man could do, And thought the place mine own, The enemy lay quiet too, And fmil'd at all was done. Ifent LOVE-SONGS. I fent to know, from whence and where, Thefe hopes, and this relief; A fpy inform'd, Honour was there, And did command in chief. March, march, (quoth I) the word ftrait give, I'll lofe no time but leave her ; That giant upon air will live, And hold it out for ever. To fuch a place our camp remove As will no fiege abide ; I hate a fool that ftarves her love, Only to feed her pride. SONG XXVIII. BY MATHEW PRIOR ESQ., THE merchant to fecure his treafure Conveys it in a borrow'd name j Euphelia ferves to grace my meafure, But Chloe is my real flame. My fofteft verfe, my darling lyre Upon Euphelias toilet lay, When Chloe noted her defire That I mould fing, that I mould play. K 3 My L O V E - S O N G S. My lyre I tune, my voice I raife, But with my numbers mix my fighs; And whilft I fing Euphelias praife, I fix my foul on Chloes eyes. Fair Chloe blufh'd, Euphelia frown'd ; I fung and gaz'd, J play'd and trembled ; And Venus to the Loves around, Remark'd how ill we all diflembled. SONG XXIX. BY SIR WILLIAM YONGE. IN vaia, dear Chloe, you fuggeft, That I, inconftant, have poflefs'd, Or lov'd a fairer (he ; Would you, with eafe, at once be cur'd Of all the ills you've long endur'd., Confult your glafs and me. If then you think, that I can find A nymph more fair, or one more kind, You've reafon for your fears ; But if impartial you will prove To your own beauty, and my love, How needlefs are your tears. If, in my way, I mould, by chance, Receive or give a wanton glance, I like LOVE-SONGS. I like but while I view : How flight the glance, fcow faint the kifs, Compar'd to that fubftantial blifs Which I receive from you ! With wanton flight the curious bee From flow'r to flow'r ftill wanders free ; And where each bloflbm blows, Extracts the juice of all he meets, But, for his quinteflence of fweets He ravifties the rofe. So I, my fancy to employ, On each variety of joy, From nymph to nymph do roam; Perhaps fee fifty in a day ; They're all but viflts that I pay, For Chloe's Hill my home. SONG XXX. SHOULD fome perverfe malignant ftar (As envious ftars will fometimes fliine) Throw me from my Florella far, Let not my lovely fair repine, If in her abfence I fliould gaze With pleafure on anothers face. K 4 The 136 LOVE-SONGS. The wearied pilgrim, when the fun Has ended his diurnal race, With pleafure lees the iriendly moon By borrow'd light, fupply his place : Not that he flights the god of day, But loves ev'n.his redeemed ray. SONG XXXI. TO CHLOE JEALOUS. BY MATHEW PRIOR, E S CL DEAR Chloe how blubber'd is that pretty face ! Thy cheek all on fire and thy hair all uncurl'd ! Prithee quit this caprice, and (as old Falftaff fays) Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world. How canft thou prefume thou haft leave to deftroy The beauties which Venus but lent to thy keeping ? Thofe looks were defign'd to infpire love and joy : More ord'nary eyes may ferve people for weeping. To be vex'd at a trifle or two that I writ, Your judgement at once, and my paUIon you wrong: You take that for fact, which will fcarce be found wit : Odslife ! muft one {wear to the truth of a fong ? What J fpeak, my fair Chloe, and what I write fhows The difPrence there is betwixt nature and art : I court others in verfe^ but I love Thee in profe : And they have my whimlies, but thou haft my heart. The L O V E - S Q N G S. 1 he god of us vene-men (you know child) the San, How after bis journies he fets up his reft : If at morning o'er earth 'tis his fancy to run ; At night he reclines on his Thetises breaft. So when I am wearied with wand'ring all day; To thee my delight in the evening I come : No matter what beauties I faw in my way : They were but my vifits ; bat thou art my home. Then finifh, dear Chloe, this paftoral war ; And let us like Horace and Lydia agree : For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, As he was a poet fublimer than me. SONG XXXIL BY MISS A I K I N. WHEN gentle Celia firft I knew, A breaft fo good, fb kind, fo true, Reafon and tafte approv'd; Pleas'd to indulge fo pure a" flame, I call'd it by too foft a name, And fondly thought I lov_'d. Till Chloris came, with fad furprife I felt the lightning of her eyes Through a!l my fenfes run : All glowing with refiftlefs charms, She fill'd my breaft with new alarms, I faw, and was undone. O Celia I 138 LOVE-SON ~GS. Celia ! dear unhappy maid, Forbear the weaknefs to upbraid Which ought your fcorn to move ; 1 know this beauty falfe and vain, I know me triumphs in my pain, Yet ftill I feel I love. Thy gentle fmiles no more can pleafe, Nor can thy fofteft friendmip eafe The torments I endure ; Think what that wounded breaft muft feel Which truth and kindnefs cannot heal, Nor even thy pity cure. Oft fhall I curfe my iron chain, And wilh again thy milder reign With long and vain regret ; All that I can, to thee I give, And could I ftill to reafon live I were thy captive yet. But paffions wild impetuous (ea Hurries me far from peace and thee, 'Twere vain to flruggle more : Thus the poor failor Numbering lies, While fwelling tides around him rife, And pufli his bark from more. In vain he fpreads his helplefs arms, His pitying friends with fond alarms LOVE-SONGS. 139 In vain deplore his ftate ; Still far and farther from the coaft, On the high furge his bark is toft, And foundering yields to fate. SONG XXXIII. BY JOHN BULTEEL. I Grant, a thoufand oaths I fwore I none would love but you : But not to change would wrong me more, Than breaking them can do. Yet you thereby a truth will learn, Of much more worth than I ; Which is, That lovers which do fwear, Do alib ufe to lie. Chloris does now poflefs that heart, Which to you did belong : But though thereof me brags a while, She mall not do fo long. She thinks, by being fair. and kind, To hinder my remove, And ne'er fo much as dreams that change, Above both thofe, I love. Then grieve not any more, nor think My change is a difgrace : For though it robs you of one flave, It leaves anothers place, Which L O V E - S O N G S. Which your bright eyes will foon fubdue With him does them firft fee : For if they could not conquer more, They ne'er had conquer'd me. SONG XXXIV. THE CHRONICLE. BY ABRAHAM COWLEY E S Qi. MARGARITA firft poflefs'd, If I remember well, my breait, Margarita firft of all : But when a while the wanton maid With my reliefs heart had play'd, Martha took the flying ball. Martha foon did it refign To the beauteous Katherine : Beauteous Katherine gave place (Though loth and angry me to part With the pofleflion of my heart) To Elizas conquering face. Eliza till this hour might reign, Had me not evil counfels ta'en ; Fundamental laws (he broke, And ftill new favourites me chofe, Till up in arms my paflions rofe, And call away her yoke. Mary LOVE-SONGS, 141 Mary then, and gentle Anne, Both to reign at once began ; Alternately they fvvay'd ; And fometimes Mary was the fair, And fometimes Anne the crown did wear, And fometimes both I obey'd. Another Mary then arofe, And did rigorous laws impoie, A mighty tyrant me ! Long, alas ! mould I have been Under that iron-fcepter'd queen, Had not Rebecca fet me free. When fair Rebecca fet me free, 'Twas then a golden time with me ; But foon thofe pleafures fled: For the gracious princefs died In her youth and beautys pride, And Judith reigned in her Head. One month, three days, and half an hour, Judith held the fov'reign pow'r: Wondrous beautiful her face, But Co weak and fmall her wit, That me to govern was unfit, And fo Sufanna took her place. But when Ifabella came Arm'd with a refiftlefs flame, And 142 LOVE-SONGS. And th' artillery of her eye, Whilft me proudly march'd about Greater conquefts to find out, She beat out Sufan by the bye. But in her place I then obey'd Black-ey'd Befs her vice-roy maid, To whom enfued a vacancy. Thoufand wprfe paffions then poffefs'd The interregnum of my breaft. Blefs me from fuch an anarchy ! Gentle Henrietta than, And a third Mary, next began ; Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria ; And then a pretty Thomafine, And then another Katherine, And then a long et cetera. But mould I now to you relate The ilrength and riches of their ftate, The powder, patches, and the pins ; The ribbands, jewels, and the rings, The lace, the paint, and warlike things That make up ail their magazines : If I mould tell the politic arts To take and keep mens hearts, The letters, embaffies, and fpies ; The frowns, and fmiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries, Numberlefs, namelefs myfteries ! And L O V E - S O N G S. 143 And all the little lime-twigs laid By Machiavel the waiting-maid ; I more voluminous mould grow (Chiefly if I like them mould tell All change of weather that befel) Than Hollingfhed or Stow. But I will briefer with them be, Since few of them were long with me. An higher and a nobler ftrain My prefent emperefs does claim, Heleonora ! firft o'th' name, Whom God grant long to reign ! SONG XXXV. BY AMBROSE PHILIPS E S CL WHY we love, and why we hate, Is not granted us to know ; Random chance, or wilful fate, Guides the fhaft from Cupids bow. If on me Zelinda frown, Madnefs 'tis in me to grieve : Since her will is not her own, Why fhould I uneafy live ? If 1 O V E - S O N G S. If I for Zelinda die, Der.f to poor Mizellas cries, Aflc not me the reafbn why : Seek the riddle in the fides. SONG XXXVI. CROSS PURPOSES. TOM loves Mary paffing well, And Mary me loves Harry ; But Harry fighs for bonny Bell, And finds his love mifcarry ; For bonny Bell for Thomas burns, Whilft Mary flights his paffion : So ftrangely freakifh are the turns Of human inclination. Mol gave Hal a wreath of flow'rs, Which he in am'rous folly Confign'd to Bell, and in few hours It came again to Molly : Thus all by turns are woo'd and woo, No turtles can be truer ; Each loves the object they purfue, But hates the kind purfuer. As much as Mary Thomas grieves, Proud Hal defpifes Mary ; And all the flouts which Bell receives , From Tom, me vents on Harry : If L O V E - S- O N G S. If one of all the four has frown 'd, You ne'er faw people grummer^ If one has fmil'd, it catches round, And all are in good-humour. Then, lovers, hence this leflbn learn, Throughout the Britiih nation ; How. much 'tis every ones concern To fmile at reformation. And ftill, through life, this rule purfue, Whatever objects ftrike you, Be kind to them that fancy you, . - That thofe you love may like you. SONG XXXVII. THE COUNTRY WEDDING. T T / ELL met pretty nymph, fays a jolly young fwain, VV To a lovely young fhepherdefs croffing the plain} Why fo much in hafte? (now the month it was May) Shall I venture to afic you, fair maiden, which way? Then.ftrait to this queftion the nymph did reply, With a fmile on her look, and a leer on her eye, I came from the village, and homeward I go ; And now gentle fhepherd, pray why would you know ? I hope, pretty maid, you won't take it amifs, If I tell you the reafon of aflcing you this ; I would fee you faie home, (the fwain was in love) Of fuch a companion if you would approve. VOL. I. L Your 146 L O V E - S O N G S. Your offer, kind fhepherd, is civil I own, But fee no great danger in going alone ; Nor yet can I hinder, the road being free, For one as another, for you as for me. No danger in going alone, it is true, But yet a companion is pleafanter too ; And if you could like (now the fwain he took heart) Such a fweetheart as me, we never would part : O ! that's a long word, faid the Ihepherdefs then j I've often heard fay, there's no minding you men : You'll fay and unfay, and you'll flatter, 'tis true ; Then leave a young maiden, the firft thing you do. O ! judge not fo harfhly, the fhepherd replied ; To prove what I fay, I will make you my bride ; To-morrow the parfon (well faid, little fwain) Shall join both our hands, and make one of us twain Then what the nymph anfwer'd to this, is not faidj The very next morn to be fure they were wed. Sing hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle down ; Now when mall we fee fuch a wedding in town. SONG XXXVIII. HUMPHRJSY GUBBINS COURTSHIP. A Courting I went to my love, Who is fvveeter than rofes in May ; And when I came to her, by Jove, The devil a word could I fay. I walk'd L O V E - S O N G S. 147 I walk'd with her into the garden, There fully intending to woo her; Bu y ; may I be ne'er worth a farthing, If of love I faid any thing to her. I clafp'd her hand clofe to ray breaft, While my heart was as light as a feather ; Yet nothing I faid, I proteft, But Madam, 'tis very fine weather. To an arbour I did her attend, She afk'd me to come and fit by her; I crept to the furthermoft end, For I was afraid to come nigh her. J afk'd her which way was the wind, For I thought in fome talk we muft enter : Why, fir, (me anfwer'd and grinn'd) Have you jufl fent your wits for a venture ? Then I follow'd her into the houfe, There I vow'd I my paffion would try ; But there I was flill as a moufe : Oh ! what a dull booby was I ! SONG i 4 * L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XXXIX. THE DESPAIRING LOVER. BY WILLIAM WALSH E S Q^. DISTRACTED with care, For Phyllis the fair; Since nothing could move her, ' Poor Damon, her lover, Refolves in defpair No longer to languifh, Nor bear fo much anguifli; But, mad with his love, To a precipice goes; Where, a leap from above Would foon finifh his woes. When in rage he came there, Beholding how fteep The fides' did appear, And the bottom how deep; His torments projecting, And fadly reflefting, That a lover forfaken ' A new love may get ; But a neck, when once broken, Can never be fet : \ And LOVE-SONGS. And, that he could die Whenever he would ; But, that he could live But as long as he could: How grievous foever The torment might grow, He fcorn'd to endeavour To finifh it fo. But bold, unconcern'd At thoughts of the pain, He calmly return'd To his cottage again. SONG XL. MY name is honeft Harry, And I love little Mary, In fpite of Cifs, or jealous Befs, I'll have my own fegary. My love is blithe and buxom, And fweet and fine as can be, Frefh and gay as the flow'rs in May, And looks like Jack-a-Dandy. And if me will -not have me, That am fo true a lover, I'll drink my wine, and ne'er repine, And down the flairs I'll move her. 149 L 3 But I 5 o L O V E - S O N G S. But if that {he will love, fir, I'll be as kind as may be, I'll give her rings, and pretty things, And deck her like a lady. He petticoat of fatin, Her gown of crimfon tabby, Lac'd up before, and fpangled o'er, Juft like a Barthol'mew baby. Her waiftcoat fhall be fcarlet, With ribbands tied together ; Her {lockings of a cloudy blue, And her ftioes of Spanifli leather. Her fmock of fineft Holland, And lac'd in every quarter, Side and wide, and long enough To hang below her garter. Then to the church I'll have her, Where we will wed together, And fo come home when we have done, In {pite of wind and weather. The fidlers {hall attend us, And firft play John come kifs me, And when that we have danc'd around, Then ftrike up, Hit or mifs me. Then LOVE-SONGS. Then hey for little Mary, 'Tis fhe I love alone, fir ; Let any man do what he can, I will have her, or none, fir. SONG XLI. A NEW SONG OF OLD SIMILES. BY MR. GAY.? MY paflion is as muftard ftrong; Ifitallfoberfad; Drunk as a piper all day long ; Or like a March hare mad. Round as a hoop the bumpers flow : I drink, yet can't forget her ; For though as drunk as Davids fow, I love her flill the better. Pert as a pearmonger I'd be, If Molly were but kind ; Cool as a cucumber could fee The reft of womankind. Like a ftuck pig I gaping ftare, And eye her o'er and o'er; Lean as a rake with fighs and care, Sleek as a moufe before. Plump I 5 2 L O V E - S O N G S. x Plump as a partridge was I known, And foft as filk my fkin ; My cheeks as fat as butter grown, But as a groat now thin. I, melancholy as a cat, Am kept awake to weep j But me, infeniible of that, Sound as a top can fleep. Hard is her heart as flint or ftone, She laughs to fee me pale ; And merry as a grig is grown, And briflc as boiled ale. The god of love at her approach, Is bufy as a bee ; Hearts found as any bell or roach Are fmit, and figh like me t Ah me ! as thick as hops or hail, The fine men croud about her ; But foon as dead as a door nail Shall I be if with6ut her. Strait as my leg her fhape appears ; Oh ! were we join'd together, My hear: would foon be free from cares. And lighter than a feather. L O V E - S O N G S. 151 As fine as five-pence is her mien, No drum was ever tighter ; Her glance is as a razor keen, And not the fun is brighter. As foft as pap her kifles are, Methinks I feel them yet; Brown as a berry is her hair, , Her eyes as black as jet. As fmooth as glafs, as white as curds, Her pretty hand invites ; Sharp as a needle are her words ; Her wit like pepper bites. Brifk as a body-loufe fhe trips ; Clean as a penny dreft ; Sweet as a rofe her face and lips; Round as a globe her brealt. Full as an egg was I with glee, And happy as a king ; Good lack ! how all men envied me ; She lov'd like any thing. But falfe as hell, fhe, like the wind, Chang'd as her fex mult do ; Though feeming as the turtle kind, And as the gofpel true. L O V E - S O N G S. If I and Molly could agree, Let who will take Peru, Great as an emperor I Ihould be, And richer than a Jew. Till you grow tender as a chick, I'm dull as any poll ; Let us like burrs together flick, As warm as any toafl. You'll know me truer than a die, And wifh me better fped ; Flat as a flounder when I lie, And as a herring dead. Sure as a gun fhe'll drop a tear, And figh perhaps and wifh, When I am rotten as a pear, And mute as any fifh. SONG XLII. ACobler there was, and he liv'd in a flail, Which ferv'd him for parlour, for kitchen, and hall, No coin in his pocket, nor care in his pate, No ambition had he, nor duns at his gate ; ' Deny down, down, down, deny down, Contented L O V E - S O N G S. 155 Contented he work'd, and he thought himfelf happy, If at night he could purchafe a jug of brown nappy : How he'd laugh then, and whiftle, and fing too moft fweet. Saying, juft to a hair I have made both ends meet : Derry down, down, &c. But love, the diflurber of high and of low, That fhoots at the peafant as well as the beau ; He fhot the poor cobler quite thorough the heart: I wifli he had hit fome more ignoble part : Derry down, down, &c. It was from a cellar this archer did .play, Where a buxom young damfel continually lay; Her eyes fhone fo bright when flie rofe ev'ry day, That me fhot the poor cobler quite over the way: Derry down, down, &c. He fung her love-fongs as he fat at his work, But flie was as hard as a Jew or a Turk: Whenever he fpake, fhe would flounce and would fleer, Which put the poor cobler quite into defpair : Derry down, down, &c. He took up his awl that he had in the world, And to make away with himfelf was refolv'd; He pierc'd through his body inflead of the fole, So the cobler he died, and the bell it did toll. Derry down, down, &c. And 5f love ! With 174 LOVE-SONGS. With all of nature, all of art, Affift the dear defign ; O teach a young unpradtis'd heart To make her ever mine. The very thought of change I hate, As much as of defpair; Nor ever covet to be great, Unlefs it be for her. 'Tis true, the paflion in my mind Is mix'd with foft diftrefs ; Yet while the fair I love is kind, I cannot wifh it lefs. SONG III. BY MRS. PILKINGTON. STELLA, darling of the mufes, Fairer than the blooming fpring ; Sweeteft theme the poet chufes, When of thee he ftrives to fing. While my foul with wonder traces All thy charms of face and mind. All the beauties, all the graces Of thy fex in thee I find. LOVE-SONGS. 175 Love, and joy, aad admiration, In my breaft alternate rife ; Words no more can paint my paflion, Than the pencil can thy eyes. Lavifh nature thee adorning, O'er thy lips and cheeks hath fpread Colours that might fhame the morning, Smiling with celeftial red. Would the gods, in bleft condition, Our requefts indulgent view, Sure each mortals firft petition Would be to refemble you. SONG IV. BY LORD LYTTELTO N< WHEN Delia on the plain appears, Aw'd by a thoufand tender fears, I would approach, but dare not move : Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? Whene'er me (peaks, my ravifh'd ear No other voice but hers can hear ; No other wit but hers approve : Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? * ' Written in the year *73*" If 176 L O V E - S O N G S. If me fome other youth commend, Though I was once his fondeft friend, His inftant enemy I prove : Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? When me is abfent, I no more Delight in all that pleas'd before, The cleared fpring, the fhadieft grove : Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? When fond of power, of beauty vain, Her nets (he fpread for every fwain, I ftrove to hate, but vainly flrove : . Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? SONG V. AS he lay in the plain, his arm under his head, And his fiock feeding by, the fond Celadon faid If love's a fweet paffion, why does it torment ? If a bitter (faid'he) whence are lovers content? Since I fufFer with pleafure, why fhould I complain ? Or grieve at my fate, when I know 'tis in vain ? Yet fo pleafing the pain is, fo foft is the dart, That at once it both wounds me, and tickles my heart. To myfelf I figh often without knowing why ; And when abfent from Phyllis methinks I could die : Bat oh ! what a pleafure ftill follows my pain ; When kind fortune does help me to fee her again. LOVE- SONGS. 177 In her eyes (the bright ftars that foretel what's to come) By foft ftealth now and then I examine my doom. I prefs her hand gently, look languifhing down, And by paffionate filence I make my love known. But oh ! how I'm bleft when fo kind me does prove, By fome willing miftake to difcover her love; When in driving to hide, fhe reveals all her flame, And our eyes tell each other what neither dare name. Q. SONG VI. THE CONVERT. BY THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. DEJECTED as true converts die, But yet with fervent thoughts inflam'd; So, faireft ! at your feet I lie, Of all my fexes faults aiham'd. Too long, alas ! have I abus'd Loves innocent and facred flame, And that divineft pow'r have us'd To laugh at, as an idle name. But fince fo freely I confefs A crime which may your fcorn produce, Allow me now to make it left, By any juft and fair excufe. VOL. I. N I then L O V E - S O N G S. I then did vulgar joys purfue, Variety was all my blifs ; But ignorant of love and you, How could I chufe but do amifs ? If ever now my wand'ring eyes Search out amufements as before ; If e'er I look, but to defpife Such charms, and value yours the more May fad remorfe, and guilty mame, Revenge your wrongs on faithlefs me ; And, what I tremble ev'n to name, May I lofe all, in lofing thee. SONG VII. THE RECOVERY. BY THE SAME. SIGHING and languifhing I lay, A ftranger grown to all delight ; Faffing in tedious thoughts the day, And with unquiet dreams the night. For your dear fake, my only care Was how my fatal love to hide ; And ever drooping with defpair, Negle&ing all the world befide. L O V E - S O N G S. i 79 'Till, like fome angel from above, Cornelia came to my relief, And then I found the joys of love, Can make amends for all the grief. Thofe pleafmg hopes I now purfue Might fail, if you could prove unjuft; But promifes from Heav'n, and you, Who is fo impious to miftruft ? Here all my doubts, and troubles end; One tender word my foul aflures ; Nor am I vain, fince I depend, Not on my own defert, but yours. SONG vni. BY SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. P HILL IS, men fay that all my vows Are to thy fortune paid, Alas ! my heart he little knows Who thinks my love a trade. Were I of all thefe woods the lord, One berry from thy hand More folid pleafure would afford, Than all my large command. N 2 My LOVE-SONGS, My humble love has learnt to live On what the niceft maid, Without a confcious blufh, may give Beneath the myrtle fhade. Of coftly food it has no need, And nothing will devour, And like the harmlefs bee can feed And not impair the flow'r. A fpotlefs innocence like thine May fuch a flame allow, Yet thy fair name for ever mine, As does thy beauty now. I heard thee wifli my lambs might ftray Safe from the foxes power, Though every one becomes his prey, I'm richer than before. SONG IX. BY WILLIAM SHENSTONE E S Q., I Told my nymph, I told her true, My fields were fmall, my flocks were few j While faultering accents fpoke my fear, That Flavia might not prove fmcere. Of crops deftroy'd by vernal cold, And vagrant fheep that left my fold: Of thefe fhe heard, yet bore to hear ; And is not Flavia then fmcere ? How L O V E - S O N G S. 181 How, chang'd by Fortunes fickle wind, The friends I lov'd became unkind ; She heard, and fhed a generous tear ; And is not Flavia then fincere ? How, if fhe deign'd my love to blefs, My Flavia muft not hope for drefs ; This too fhe heard, and fmil'd to hear ; And Flavia fure muft be fincere. . Go fliear your flocks, ye jovial fwains, Go reap the plenty of your plains ; DefpoiPd of all which you revere, I know my Flavias love fincere. O SONG X. BY MR. BAKER. HAD I been by fate decreed Some humble cottage fwain, In Rofalindas fight to feed My flieep upon the plain ; How happy would thofe days have pafs'd Which now are fill'd with woe ! You envious pow'rs ! why have you plac'd My fair one's lot fo low , ? * N 3 How * This verfe is inferted by Bickerftaffin Love in a Village. The thefts of this ingenious plagiarift, however numerous, have been fo little noticed, that it may not be amifs to mention thofe which he has been already con- vi&ed of, in the poetical part only of the above opera. Hope thu nurfe of young dejire, his firft fong, is the fifth in Charles Johnfons Village opera. My heart's my own, my tu'ill is free, is taken, with the flighteft variation, from Mitchells Highland Fair. Euftaces fong, Think ny fairejl law delay, i8z L O V E - S O N G S. How fottifli cuftom over-rules The force of Natures law ! Begun, and carried on by fools, It keeps mankind in awe. Nature to rule the world defign'd The generous and the fair, But cuftom has the fway confin'd To fuch as wealthy are. Each charm in Rofalindas face Convincingly declares None can, but for the fecond place, Contend when ihe appears. Then, 'caufe blind Fortune has not thrown Her favours in her way, Shall I her fov'reignty difown, And fcruple to obey? Ah ! no ; dominion is her due, The right which Nature gave ; Let him, who dares difpute, but view Her eyes, and be her flave : And may the world, convinc'd by me, Before the charmer fall, Whofe beauty makes her fit to be Acknovvleg'd queen of all. May, is pilfered from the fame opera ; Lucindas, We women likt tv'a.k India*: maae, is purloined from one beginning Pursuing beauty men defcry. Young Meadowses fong, How much fuper iir beauty awes, is the fecond verfeof one intitled The Phoenix, beginning Amanda's fair by allconfe/}; and old Juftice Woodcocks favourite piece of ribaldry, When 1 follwud a lafi that iv is feevi/b and Jby, is ftolen -verbatim from ColJey Cibbers Love in a Riddle. Of mr. Baker little el fc is known than that hs was a writer of rerfes abouC the year 1730. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. JSj SONG XI. WE all to conquering beauty bow, Its pleafing pow'r admire ; But I ne'er faw a face till now That could like yours infpire : Now I may fay, I've met with one Amazes all mankind ; And, like men gazing on the fun, With too much light am blind. Soft, as the tender moving fighs, When longing lovers meet ; Like the divining prophets, wife ; Like new blown rofes, fweet : Modeft, yet gay ; referv'd, yet free ; Each happy night a bride; A mien like aweful majefty, And yet no {park of pride. The patriarch, to gain a wife, Chafte, beautiful, and young, Serv'd fourteen years a painful life, And never thought it long : Ah 1 were you to reward fuch cares, And life fo long could ftay, Not fourteen, but four hundred years, Would feem but as one day. O. N4 SONG j 4 LOVE-SONGS. SONG XII. BY SIR JOHN EATON*. TELL me net I my time mifpend, 'Tis time loft to reprove me; Purfue thou thine, I have my end, So Chloris only love me. Tell me not others flocks are full, Mine poor, let them defpife me Who more abound in milk and wool, So Chloris only prize me. Tire others eafier ears with thefe Unappertaining ftories ; He never felt the worlds difeafe Who car'd not for its glories. For pity, thou that wifer art, "Whofe thoughts lie wide of mine, Let me alone with my own heart, And I'll ne'er envy thine. Nor blame him, whoe'er blames my wit, That feeks no higher prize, Than in unenvied fhades to fit, And fing of Chloris' eyes. * An o'd MS. copy, with Tome trifling variations, in the Harleian ibrary, is under the name of Philip King. SONG LOVE-SONGS. i8| SONG XIIJ. BY MR. WILLIAM WOTY, SWEET are the banks, when fpring perfume* The verdant plants, and laughing flowers, Fragrant the violet, as it blooms, And fweet the blollbms after fhowers. Sweet is the foft, the funny breeze, That fans the golden orange grove; But oh ! how fweeter far than thefe The kifles are of her I love. Ye rofes, blufhing in your beds, That with your odours fcent the air ; Ye lilies chafte ! with filver heads As my Cleoras bofom fair. No more I court your balmy fweets; For I, and I alone, can prove, How fweeter, when each other meets, The kiffes are of her 1 love. Her tempting eyes my gaze inclin'd, Their pleafing lefTon firit I caught j Her fenfe, her friendfhip next confin'd The willing pupil fhe had taught. Should Fortune, Hooping from her fky, Condudt me to her bright alcove; Yet, like the turtle, I ihould die, Denied the kifs of her I love. SONG s86 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XIV. IMITATED FROM A SPANISH MADRIGAL BY MR. GARRICK. FOR me my fair a wreath has wove Where rival flowers in union meet, As oft me kifs'd this gift of love, Her breath gave fveetnefs to the fweet. A bee within a damaflc rofe Had crept the neftar'd dew to fip, But leffer fleets the thief foregoes, And fixes on Louifas lip. There tafb'ng all the bloom of fpring, Wak'd by the ripening breath of May, Th' ungrateful fpciler left his fting, And with the honey fled away. SONG XV. BY SIR JOHN MOORE. CEASE to blame my melancholy, Though with fighs and folded arms, 1 mufe in filence on her charms ; Cenfure not I know 'tis folly. * At the end of mr, Twiftes tour in that country. LOVE- SONG S. Yet, thefe mournful thoughts, ppflefiing, Such delights I find in grief, Thar, could Heaven afford relief, My fond heart would fcorn the bleffing. SONG XVI. THE GIRDLE. BY EDMUND WALLER E S Q^ HAT which her flender waift confin'd, J 7 l T Shall now my joyful temples bind : No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my heavens extremeft fphere, The pale which held that lovely deer : My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move ! A narrow compafs ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the reft the fun goes round. SONG i8S L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XVII. BY THE EARL OF DORSET. LET the ambitious ever find Succefs in crouds and noife, While gentle love does fill my mind With filent real joys. Let knaves and fools grow rich and great, And the world think them wife, While I lye at my Nannys feet, And all that world defpife. Let conquering kin^s new trophies raife, And melt in court delights : Her eyes can give much brighter days, Her arms much fofter nights. SONG XVIII. A TRANSLATION FROM SAPPHO. BY AMBROSE PHILIPS ESQ. BLESS'D as th' immortal gods is he, The youth who fondly fits by thee, And hears and fees thee all the while Softly fpeak and fweetly fmile. 'Twsw LOVE-SONGS. i& 9 'Twas this depriv'd my foul of reft, And rais'd fuch tumults in my breaft ; For while I gaz'd, in tranfport tofs'd, My breath was gone, my voice was loft. My bofom glow'd ; the fubtile flame .> Ran quick through all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darknefs hung, My ears with hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd, My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd ; My feeble pulfe forgot to play, I fainted, funk, and died away. SONG XIX. IN IMITATION'OF CORNELIUS CALLUS. BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER. MY goddefs Lydia, heav'nly fair, As lilies fweet, as foft as air ; Let loofe thy treffes, fpread thy charms, And to my love give frefh alarms. O let me gaze on thole bright eyes, Though facred lightning from them flies : Show me that foft, that modeft grace, Which paints with charming red thy face. Give LOVE. SONGS. Give me Ambrofia in a kifs, That I may rival Jove in blifs ; That I may mix my foul with thine, And make the pleafure all divine. O hide thy bofoms killing white, (The milky way is not fo bright) Left you my ravifh'd foul opprefs, With beautys pomp and fweet excefs. Why draw'ft thou from the purple flood Of my kind heart the vital blood ? Thou art all over endlefs charms ; O ! take me, dying, to thy arms. SONG XX. ON Belvideras bofom lying, Wifhing, panting, fighing, dying; The cold regardlefs maid to move With unavailing pray'rs I fue ; You firft have taught me how to love. Ah ! teach me to be happy too. But me, alas ! unkindly wife, To all my fighs and tears replies, 'Tis every prudent maids concern Her lovers fondnefs to improve; If to be happy you faould learn, You quickly 'would forget to love. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. 191 SONG XXL LOVE ECSTATIC. BY MR. HENRY CAREY. TO be gazing on thofe charms, To be folded in thofe arms, To unite my lips with thofe, Whence eternal fweetnefs flows ; To be lov'd by one fo fair, Is to be bleft beyond compare. On that bofom to recline, While that hand is lock'd in mine, In thofe eyes myfelf to view, Gazing ftill, and ftill on you ; To be lov'd by one fo fair, Is to be bleft beyond compare. SONG XXII. TH E bird that hears her neftlings cry, And flies abroad for food, Returns impatient through the fky, To nurfe the callow brood. The tender mother knows no joy, But bodes a thoufand harms, And fickens for the darling boy, While abfent from her arms. Such tOVE-SONGS. Such fbndnefs with impatience join'd My faithful bofom fires ; Now forc'd to leave my fair behind, The queen of my defires 1 The powers of verfe too languid prove, All fimiles are vain, To fhow hew ardently I love, Or to relieve my pain. The faint with fervent zeal infpir'd For heav'n and joys divine, The faint is not with raptures fir'd More pure, more warm than mine. I take what liberty I dare ; 'Twere impious to fay more : Convey my longings to the fair, The goddefs I adore. SONG XXIII. BY THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. FROM all uneafy paffions free, Revenge, ambition, jealoufy, Contented, I had been too bleft, If love and you had let me refti Yet that dull life I now defpife ; Safe from your eyes I feard no griefs, but then I found no joys. Amidft L O V E - S O N G S. 193 Amidft a thoufand kind defires, . Which Beauty moves, and Love infpires, Such pangs I feel of tender fear, No heart fo foft as mine can bear. Yet I'll defy the worft of harms ; Such are your charms, 'Tis worth a life to die within your arms. SONG XXIV. BY MR. GARRICK. ONCE more I'll tune the vocal Ihell, To hills and dales my paffion tell ; A flame which time can never quell, That burns for lovely Peggy. Yet greater bards the lyre mould hit ; For pray what fubject is more fit, Than to record the facred wit, And bloom of lovely Peggy. The fun firft rifing in the morn, That paints the dew befpangled thorn. Does not fo much the day adorn As does my lovely Peggy. And when in Thetis' lap to reft, He ftreaks with gold the ruddy Weft, He's not lo beauteous as, undrefs'd, Appears my lovely Peggy. VOL. I. O Were i 9 4 L O V E - S O N G S. Were fhe array'd in ruftic weed, With her the bleating flocks I'd feed, And pipe upon my oaten reed, To pleafe my lovely Peggy. With her a cottage would delight, All pleafes when flic's in my fight ; But when flic's gone 'tis endlefs night, All's dark without my Peggy. When Zephyr on the violet blows, Or breathes upon the damaflc rofe, He does not half the fweets difclofe, That does my lovely Peggy. I ftole a kifs the other day, And, truff me, nought but truth,! fay, The fragrant breath of blooming May Was not fo fweet as Peggy. While bees from flow'r to flow'r do rove, And linnets warble through the grove, Or ftately fwans the waters love, So long fhall 1 love Peggy. And when death, with his pointed dart, Shall ftrike the blow that rives my heart, My words (hall be, when I depart, Adieu, my lovely Peggy. SONG L O V E - S N C S. 1 95 SONG XXV. MAY-EVE: OR, KATE OF ABERDEEN. BY MR. JOHN CUNNINGHAM. THE filver moons enamour'd beam, Steals foftly through the night, To wanton with the winding ftream, And kifs reflected light. To beds of ftate go balmy fleep, ('Tis where you've feldom been) Mays vigil while the fhepherds keep With Kate of Aberdeen. Upon the green the virgins wait, In rofy chaplets gay, 'Till morn unbar her golden gate, And give the promis'd May. Methinks I hear the maids declare, The promis'd May, when feen, Not half fo fragrant, half fo fair, As Kate of Aberdeen. . Strike up the tabors boldeft notes, We'll roufe the nodding grove ; The netted birds mail raife their throats, And hail the maid I love : And fee the matin lark miftakes, He quits the tufted green : Fond bird ! 'tis not the morning breaks, 'Tis Kate of Aberdeen. O 2 Now I 9 6 L O V E - S O N G S. Now lightfome o'er the level mead, Where midnight Fairies rove, Like them, the jocund dance we'll lead, Or tune the reed to love : For fee the rofy May draws nigh ; She claims a virgin Queen ; And hark, the happy fliepherds cry, "Tis Kate of Aberdeen 1 SONG XXVI. NANCY OF THE VALE. BY WILLIAM SHENSTONE ESQ. THE weftern Jky was purpled o'er With every pleafing ray : And flocks reviving felt no more * The fultry heats of day : When from an hazles artlefs bow'r Soft warbled Strephons tongue ; He bleft the fcene, he bleft the hour, While Nancys praife he fung. Let fops with fickle falfehood range The paths of wanton love, While weeping maids lament their change, And fadden every grove : But L O V E - S O N G S. 197 But endlefs bleffings crown the day I faw fair Efhams dale ! And every blefiing find its way To Nancy of the Vale. 'Twas from A von as banks the maid Diffus'd her lovely beams, And every fhining glance difplay'd The naiad of the ftreams. Soft as the wild-ducks tender young, That float on Avons tide ; Bright as the water-lily, fprung, ' And glittering near its fide. Frefh as the bordering flowers, her bloom : Her eye all mild to view ; The little halcyons azure plume Was never half fo blue. Her fhape was like the reed, fo fleck, So taper, ftraight, and fair ; Her dimpled fmile, her blufhing cheek, How charming fweet they were ! Far in the winding vale retir'd, This peerlefs bud I found ; And fhadowing rocks, and woods confpir'd To fence her beauties round. O 3 That 198 L O V E - S O N G S. That nature in fb lone a dell Should form a nymph fo fweet ! Or fortune to her fecret cell Condufl my wandering feet ! Gay lordlings fought her for their bride, But me would ne'er incline : Prove to your equals true, fhe cried, As I will prove to mine. "Tis Strephon, on the mountains brow, Has won my right good will ; To him L gave my plighted vow, With him I'll climb the hill. Struck with her charms and gentle truth, I clafp'd the conftant fair j To her alone I gave my youth, And vow my future care. And when this vow mall faithlefs prove, Or I thofe charms forego ; The ftream that faw our tender love, That ftream mail ceafe to flow. SONG LOVE-SONGS. 199 SONG XXVII. BY SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. NOT, Celia, that I jufter am. Or truer than the reft ; For I would change each hour like them, Were it my intereft. But I'm fo fix'd alone to thee By every thought I have, That fhould you now my heart fet free, 'Twould be again your flave. All that in woman is ador'd In thy dear felf I find ; For the whole fex can but afford The handfome, and the kind. Not to my virtue, but thy power, This conftancy is due, When change itfelf can give no more, 'Tis eafy to be true. SONG XXVIII. BY DR. JOHNSON, NOT the foft fighs of vernal gales, The fragrance of the flowery vales, The murmurs of the cryftal rill, The vocal grove, the verdant hill j O 4 Not 200 L O V E - S O N G S. Not all their charms, though all unite, Can touch my bofom with delight. Not all the gems on Indias fhore, Not all Perus unbounded ftore, 'Not all the power, nor all the fame, That heroes, kings, or poets claim ; Nor knowlege which the learn'd approve, To form one wifh my foul can move. Yet Natures charms allure my eyes, And knowlege, wealth, and fame I prize ; Fame, wealth, and knowlege I obtain, Nor feek I Natures charms in vain j In lovely Stella all combine, And, lovely Stella ! thou art mine. SONG XXIX. DELIA. A PASTORAL. BY MR. JOHN CUNNINGHAM. TH E gentle fwan with graceful pride, Her glofly plumage laves, And failing down the filver tide, Divides the whifpering waves : The filver tide, that wandering flows, Sweet to the bird muft be ! But not fo fweet blithe Cupid knows, As Delia is to me. A parent L O V E~- S O N G S. 201 A parent bird, in plaintive mood, On yonder fruit-tree fung, And ftill the pendent neft me view'd, That held her callow young : Dear to the mothers fluttering heart The genial brood muft be ; But not fo dear (the thoufandth part!) As Delia is to me. The rofes that my brow furround Were natives of the dale j Scarce pluck'd, and in a garland bound, Before their fweets grew pale ! My vital bloom would thus be froze, If lucklefs torn from thee ; For what the root is to the role, My Delia is to me. Two doves I found, like new-fall'n fnow, So white the beauteous pair ! The birds to Delia I'll beftbw, They're like her bofom fair ! When, in their chafte connubial love. My fecret vvifh. fhe'll fee ; Such mutual blifs as turtles prove, May Delia mare with me. SONG 202 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XXX. BY MATHEW PRIOR IF wine and mufic have the pow'r To eafe the ficknefs of the foul, Let Phcebus every firing explore, And Bacchus fill the fpritely bowl. Let them their friendly aid employ To make my Chloes abfence light, And feek for pleafure, to deftroy The forrows of this live long night. But {he to-morrow will return ; Venus be thou to-morrow great, Thy myrtles drew, thy odours burn, And meet thy fav'rite nymph in flate. Kind goddefs, to no other pow'rs Let us to-morrows bleffings own ; The darling loves mall guide the hours, And all the day be thine alone. SONG xxxr. AN IMITATION OF MARTIAL. BY SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS.? COME, Chloe, and give me fweet kifles, For fweeter fure girl never gave : But why in the midft of my blifles Do you alk me how many I'd have ? I'm LOVE-SONGS, joj I'm not to be ftinted in pleafure, Then prithee my charmer be kind, For whilft I love thee above meafure To numbers I'll ne'er be confin'd. Count the bees that on Hybla are playing, Count the flow'rs that enamel its fields, Count the flocks that on Tempe are ftraying, Or the grain that rich Sicily yields. Go number the ftars in the heaven, Count how many fands on the more, When Jo many kilTes you've given I itill mall be craving for more. To a heart full of love let me hold thee, To a heart which, uear Chloe, is thine j With my arms I'll for ever infold thee. And twill round thy neck like a vine. What joy can be greater than this is ? My life on thy lips fhall be fpent ; But the wretch that can number his kifles With few will be ever content. SONG XXXII. WHEN charming Teraminta fings, Each new air new paffion brings ; Now I refolve, and now i fear j Now I triumph, now defpair ; Frolic LOVE-SONGS. Frolic now, now faint I grow ; Now I freeze, and now I glow. The panting Zephyrs round her play, And trembling on her lips would ftay ; Now would Men, now would kifs, Trembling with divided blifs; 'Till, by her breath repuls'd, they fly, And in low pleafmg murmurs die. Nor do I afk that me would give By fome new note, the pow'r to live j I would, expiring with the found, Die on the lips that gave the wound. SONG XXXIII. THE FEMALEPHAETON. BY MATHEW PRIOR E S (^ ? THUS Kitty * beautiful and young, . And wild as colt untam'd; Befpoke the Fair from whom Ihe Iprung, With little rage inflam'd. Inflam'd with rage at fad reftraint, Which wife mamma ordain'd ; And forely vex'd to play the faint, Whilil wit and beauty reign'd. * Lady Catharine Hyde, afterwards duchefs of Qneenlberry. Shall tOVE-SONGS. 205 Shall I thumb holy books, confin'd With Abigails forfaken ? Kitty's for other things defign'd, Or I am much miftaken. Muft lady Jenny f frifk about, And vifit with her coufins ? At balls muft me make all the rout And bring home hearts by dozens ? What has fhe better, pray, than I? What hidden charms to boaft ? That all mankind for her mould die, Whilft I am fcarce a toaft. Deareft mamma, for once let me Unchain'd my fortune try; I'll have my earl as well as fhe, Or know the reafon why. I'll foon with Jennys pride quit fcore, Make all her lovers fall ; They'll grieve I was not loos'd before, She, I was loos'd at all. Fondnefs prevail'd, mamma gave way; Kitty, at hearts defire, Obtain'd the chariot for a day, And fet the world on fire ! Lady Jane Hyde, then cowntefs of Effex, who died in France 172*, SONG 206 L O V - S O N G S. SONG XXXIV. BY MRS. PILKINGTON. STELLA and Flavia, ev'ry hour, Unnumber'd hearts furprife ; In Stellas foul lies all her pow'r, And Flavias in her eyes. More boundlefs Flavias conquefts are, And Stellas more confin'd ; All can difcern a face that's fair, But few a lovely mind. Stella, like Britains monarch, reigns O'er cultivated lands ; Like Eaftern tyrants, Flavia deigns To rule o'er barren fands. Thep boaft, fair Flavia, boaft your face, Your beautys only ftore ; Your charms will ev'ry day decreafe, Each day gives Stella more. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. 207 SONG XXXV. BY DR. AKENSIDE. THE fhape alone let others prize, The features of the fair ; I look for fpirit in her eyes, And meaning in her air. A damafk cheek, and ivory arm, Shall ne'er my wi(hes win, Give me an animated form, That fpeaks a mind within. A face where aweful honour mines, Where fenfe and fweetnefs move, And angel innocence refines The tendernefs of love. Thefe are the foul of beautys frame, Without whofe vital aid, Unfinifh'd all her features feem, And all her rofes dead. But ah ! where both their charms' unite, How perfect is the view, With every image of delight, With graces ever new. Of Sot LOVE-SONGS. Of power to charm the greateft woe, The wildefl rage controul, Diffusing roildnefs o'er the brow, And rapture through the foul. Their power but faintly to exprefs All language muft defpair, But go behold Arpafias face, And read it perfect there. SONG XXXVI. ON YOUNG OLINDA. WHEN Innocence and Beauty meet, To add to lovely female grace, Ah, how beyond expreffion fweet Is every feature of the face. By virtue, ripened from the bud, The flower angelic odours breeds, The fragrant charms of being good, Makes gawdy vice to fmell like weeds. Oh facred Virtue ! tune my voice, With thy infpiring harmony ; Then I (hall fmg of rapting joys, Will fill my foul with love of thee. To LOVE- SONGS. 209 To lafting brightnefs be refin'd, When this vain fhadow flies away, Th' eternal beauties of the mind Will laft when all things elfe decay. O. SONG XXXVIL BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER. MY dear miftrefs has a heart Soft as thofe kind looks fhe gave me, When with loves refiftlefs art, And her eyes fhe did enflave me. But her conftancy's fo weak, She's fo wild, and apt to wander, That my jealous heart would break. Should we live one day afunder. Melting joys about her move, Killing pleafures, wounding bliffes ; She can drefs her eyes in love, And her lips can arm with kifTes. Angels Men when fhe fpeaks, She's my delight, all mankinds wonder But my jealous heart would break, Should we live one day afunder. VOL. I. P SONG zio L O V E - S O N G-S. SONG XXXVIII. THE LASS WITH THE GOLDEN LOCKS. BY MR. CHRISTOPHER SMART. NO more of my Harriot, of Polly no more, Nor all the bright beauties that charm'd me before ; My'heart for a flave to gay Venus I've fold, And barter'd my freedom for ringlets of gold : I'll throw down my pipe, and negleft all my flocks, And will fing to my lafs with the golden locks. Though o'er her white forehead the gilt trefles flow, Like the rays of the fun on a hillock of fnow ; Such painters of old drew the Queen of the Fair, J Tis the tafte of the antients, 'tis claffical hair : And though witlings may fcofF, and though raillery moc- Yet I'll fing to my lafs with the golden locks. To live and to love, to converfe and be free, Is loving, my charmer, and living with thee : Away go the hours in kifles and rhime, Spite of all the grave le&ures of old father Time ; A fig for his dials, his watches, and clocks, He's bell fpent with the lafs of the golden locks. Than the fwan in the brook ftie's more dear to my fight, Her mien is more ftately, her breaft is more white; Her fweet lips are rubies, all rubies above, Which are fit for the language or labour of love ; At L O V E - S O N G S. 2ij At the park in the mall, at the play in the box, My lafs bears the bell with her golden locks. Her beautiful eyes as they roll or they flow, Shall be glad for my joy, or fhall weep for my woe ; She fhall eafe my fond heart, and {hall footh my foft pain, While thoufands of rivals are fighing in vain ; Let them rail at the fruit they can't reach, like the fox, While I have the lafs with the golden locks. SONG XXXIX. THE JE NE SCAI Q_U O I. BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD E S Q^ YE S I'm in love, I feel it now, And Ccelia has undone me ; And yet I'll fwear I can't tell how The pleafing plague Hole on me. 'Tis not her face which love creates, For there no graces revel ; 'Tis not her fhape, for there the fates Have rather been uncivil. 'Tis not her air, for fure in that There's nothing more than common; And all her fenfe i* only chat, Like any other woman. p z Her ziz L O V E - S O N G S. Her voice, her touch might give th' alarm 'Twas both perhaps or neither ; In ftiort 'twas that provoking charm Of Ccelia all together. SONG XL. SALLY" IN OUR ALLEY. BY MR. HENRY CAREY, OF all the girls that are fo fmart, There's none like pretty Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And ihe lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land Is half fo fweet as Sally : She is the darling of my heart, And flie lives in our alley. Her father he makes cabbage-nets, And through the ftreets does cry 'em ; Her mother me fells laces long To fuch as pleafe to buy 'em : But fure fuch folks could ne'er beget So fweet a girl as Sally ! She is the darling of my heart, And flie lives in our alley. When L O V E - S O N G S. 213 When flie is by, I leave my work, (I love her fo fincerely) My mafter comes like any Turk, And bangs me moft feverely ; But, let him bang his belly full, I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And (he lives in our alley. Of all the days that's in the week, I dearly love but one day, And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday ; For then I'm drefs'd, all in my beft, To walk abroad with Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And me lives in our alley. My mafter carries me to church, And often am I blamed, Becaufe I leave him in the larch, As foon as text is named : I leave the church in fermon-time, And flink away to Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And me lives in our alley. When Chriftmas comes about again t O then I (hall have money ; I'll hoard it up, and box and all I'll give it to my Ijoneyj^. P 3 I would 214 LOVE-SONGS. I would it were ten thoufand pounds, I'd give it all to Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And fhe lives in our alley. My matter, and the neighbours all, Make game of me and Sally ; And (but for her) I'd better be A flave and row a galley : But when my feven long years are out, O then I'll marry Sally ; O then we'll wed, and then we'll bed, But not in our alley. SONG XLI. SWEET WILLIAMS FAREWELL TO BLACK-EYED SUSAN. BY MR. GAY. ALL in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, The itreamers waving in the wind, When black-ey'd Sufan came on board: Oh ! where mall I my true love find ? Tell me, ye jovial failors, tell me true If my fweet William fails among the crew ! William, LOVE- SONGS. 215 Willi&m, who high upon the yard, Rock'd with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He figh'd and caft his eyes below : The cord flides fwiftly through his glowing hands, And (quick as lightning) on the deck he ftands. So the fweet lark, high pois'd in air, Shuts clofe his pinions to his breaft, (If, chance, his mates fhrill voice he hear) And drops at once into her neft. The nobleft captain in the Britifh fleet Might envy Williams lips thofe kifles fweet. O Sufan, Sufan, lovely dear, My vows mall ever true remain : Let me kifs off" that falling tear, We only part to meet again. Change as ye lift, ye winds, my heart mall be The faithful compafs that ftijl points to thee. Believe not what the landmen fay, Who tempt with doubts thy conftant mind : They'll tell thee, failors, when away, In every port a miftrefs find. Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee Co, For thou art prefent wherefoe'er I go. If to fair Indias coaft we fail, Thy eyes are feen in diamonds bright, Thy breath is Africks fpicy gale, Thy Ikin is ivory fo white. P 4 Thut 216 L O V E - S O N G S. Thus every beauteous objeft that I view, Wakes in my foul fome charm of lovely Sue. Though battle call me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Sufan mourn ; Though cannons roar, yet fafe from harms William fhall to his dear return. Love turns afide the balls that round me fly, Left precious tears mould drop from Sufans eye. The boatfwain gave the dreadful word, The fails their fweiling bofom fpread ; No longer muft me ftay on board : They kifs'd, me figh'd, he hung his head ; Her lefs'ning boat unwilling rows to land : Adieu ! flie cries, and wav'd her lily hand. SONG XLH. FROM THE LAPLAND TONGUE. BY SIR RICHARD STEEL? THOU riiing fun, whofe gladfome ray Invites my fair to rural play, Difpell the mift, and clear the Ikies, And bring my Orra to my eyes. Oh ! were 1 fure my dear to view ? I'd climb that pine-trees topmoft bough, Aloft in air that quivering plays, And round and round for ever gaze. LOVE-SONGS. My Orra Moor, where art thou laid ? What wood conceals my fleeping maid ? Faft by the roots enrag'd I'd tear The trees that hide my promis'd fair. Oh ! could I ride on clouds and fides, Or on the ravens pinions rife ! Ye ftorks, ye fwans, a moment ftay, My blifs too Jong my bride denies, Apace the wafting fummer flies : Nor yet the wintry blafts I fear, Not ftorms or night mall keep me here. What may for ftrength with fteel compare ? Oh ! Love has fetters ftronger far : By bolts of fteel are limbs confin'd, But cruel Love enchains the mind. No longer then perplex thy breaft, When thoughts torment, the firft are beft ; 'Tis mad to go, 'tis death to ftay, Away to Orra, hafte away ! SONQ 2i8 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XLIIJ. THE MIDSUMMER WISH. BY DR. CROXALL*. WAFT me, fome foft and cooling breeze, To Windfors fhady kind retreat ; Where fylvan fcenes, wide fpreading trees, Repel the dog-flars raging heat : Where tufted grafs, and mofly beds, Afford a rural calm repofe ; Where woodbines hang their dewy heads, And fragrant fweets around difclofe. Old oozy Thames, that flows faft by, Along the fmiling valley plays ; His glaffy furface chears the eye, And through the flowery meadow ftrays. His fertile banks, with herbage green, His vales with golden plenty fwell ; Wheree'er his purer flreams are feen, The gods of health and pleafure dwell. Let me thy clear, thy yielding wave, With naked arm once more divide ; In thee my glowing bofom lave, And ftem thy gently-rolling tide. Lay * <* Written when the author was at Eton fchool." L O V E - S O N G S. 219 Lay me, with damaflc-rofes crcwn'd, Beneath fome oilers dufky (hade ; Where water-lilies deck the ground, Where bubbling fprings refrefh the glade. Let dear Lucinda too be there, With azure mantle flightly dreft; Ye nympho. bind up her flowing hair, Ye Zephyrs, fan her panting breatt. O hafte away, fair maid, and bring The mufe, the kindly friend to love, To thee alone the mufe mail fing, And warble through the vocal grove. SONG XLIV. BY DR. PERCY. O Nancy, wilt thou go with me, Nor ftgh to leave the flaunting town? Can filent glens have charms for thee, The lowly cot and ruflet gown ? No longer dreft in filken fheen, No longer deck'd with 'cwels rare, Say can'ft thou quit each courtly fcene, Where thou wert fairelt of the fair? O Nancy ! when thou'rt far away, Wilt thou not caft a look behind ? Say canft thou face the parching ray, Nor fhrink before the wintry wind r O caa 220 L O V E . S O N G S. O can that foft and gentle mien Extremes of hardftiip learn to bear, Nor fad regret each courtly fcene, Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? O Nancy ! canft thou love fo true, Through perils keen with me to go, Or when thy fwain miftiap mall rue, To fhare with him the pang of woe ? Say, ftiould difeafe or pain befall, Wilt thou affume the nurfes care, Nor wiftful thofe gay fcenes recall, Where thou wert fairell of the fair ? And when at laft thy love mail die, Wilt thou receive his parting breath ? Wilt thou reprefs each ftruggling figh, And chear with fmiles the bed of death ? And wilt thou o'er his breathlefs clay Strew flowers and drop the tender tear ; Nor then regret thofe fcenes fo gay, Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? SONG XLV. BY MISS WHATELEY. COME dear Paftora, come awayl And hail the chearful fpring ; Now fragrant bloflbms crown the May, And woods with love-notes ring : Now LOVE-SONGS, zzi Now Phoebus to the Weft defcends, And ftieds a fainter ray ; And as our rural labour ends, We blefs the clofing day. In yonder artlefs maple bower, With blooming woodbines twin'd ; Let us enjoy the evening hour, On earths foft lap reclin'd : Or where yon poplars verdant boughs The cryftal current made ; O deign, fair nymph, to hear the vows My faithful heart has made. Within this breaft no foft deceit, No artful flattery bides : But truth, fcarce known among the great, O'er every thought prelides : On prides falfe glare I look with fcorn, And all its glittering train ; Be mine the pleafures which adorn This ever- peaceful plain. Come then, my fair, and with thy love Each rinng care fubdue ; Thy prefence can each grief remove, And every joy renew : The lily fades, the rofe grows faint, Their tranfient bloom is vain ; But lafting truth and virtue paint Paftora of the plain. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XLVf. BY NAT LEE. HAIL to the myrtle {hade, All hail to the nymphs of the fields, Kings would not here invade, Thofe pleafures that virtue yields ; Beauty here opens her arms, To foften the languifhing mind ; And Phillis unlocks her charms : Ah Phillis ! ah, why fo kind ? Phillis, thou foul of love, Thou joy of the neighbouring fwains : Phillis, that crowns the grove, And Phillis that gilds the plains. Phillis, that ne'er had the fkill To paint, and to patch, and be fine ; Yet Phillis,. whofe eyes can kill, Whom nature has made divine. Phillis, whofe charming fong Makes labour and pains a delight ; Phillis that makes the day young, And fhortens the live-long night : Phillis, whofe lips, like May, Still laugh at the fweets that they bring ; Where love never knows decay, But fets with eternal fpring. In the tragedy of Theodofiur. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. SONG XLVH. COME, dear Amanda, quit the town, And to the rural hamlets fly ; Behold, the wintry ftorms are gone, A gentle radiance glads the flcy. The birds awake, the flowers appear, Earth fpreads a verdant couch for thee ; 'Tis joy and mufic all we hear ! 'Tis love and beauty all we fee ! Come, let us mark the gradual fpring, How peep the buds, the bloflbm blows, Till Philomel begins to ling, And perfed May to fpread the rofe. Let us fecure the fliort delight, And wifely crop the blooming day ; For foon, too foon, it will be night : A rife, my love, and come away. SONG XLVIU. FROM THE LAPLAND TONGUE. BY SIR RICHARD STEEL.? HASTE, my rein-deer, and let us nimbly go Our amorous journey through this dreary wafte ; Hafte, my rein-deer ! flill, ftill thou art too flow, Impetuous love demands the lightnings hafte. Around 224 LOVE-SONGS. Around us far the rufhy moors are fpread : Soon will the fun withdraw his chearful ray : Darkling and tir'd we (hall the marfhes tread ; No lay unfung to cheat the tedious way. The watery length of thefe unjoyous moors Does all the flowery meadows pride excell j Through thefe I fly to her my foul adores ; Ye flowery meadows, empty pride, farewell. Each moment from the charmer I'm confin'd, My bread is tortur'd with impatient fires ; Fly, my rein-deer, fly fwifter than the wind, Thy tardy feet wing with my fierce deiires. Our pleafing toil will then be foon o'erpaid, And thou, in wonder loft, mall view my fair, Admire each feature of the lovely maid, Her artlefs charms, her bloom, her fpritely air. But lo ! with graceful motion where (he fwims, Gently removing each ambitious wave ; The crouding waves tranfported clafp her limbs : When, when, oh when ihall I fuch freedoms have ! In vain, ye envious ftreams, fo fa ft ye flow, To hide her from a lovers ardent gaze : From every touch you more tranfparent grow, And all reveal'd the beauteous wanton plays. SONG LOVE-SONGS. SONG XLIX. ARNOS VALE. BY THE EARL OF MIDDLESEX*. WHEN here Luanda firft we came, Where Arno rolls his filver ftream, How blithe the nymphs, the fwains how gay, Content infpir'd each rural lay. The birds in livelier concert fung, The grapes in thicker clafters hung ; All look'd as joy could never fail Among the fweets of Arnos vale. But fince the good Palemon died, The chief of fhepherds, and their pride, Now Arnos fons muft all give place To northern men, an iron race. The tafte of pleafure now is o'er, Thy notes, Lucinda, pleafe no more ; The mufes droop, the Goths prevail ; Adieu the fweets of Arnos vale ! * Charles Sackville, afterwards duke of Dorfet. It was written at Flo- rence in 1737, on the death of John Gafton the laft duke of Tufcany, of the houfe of Medici 5 and addrefied to fignora Mufcovita a finger, a favou- rite of the authors. VOL. I, Q_ SONG 226 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG L. BY MR. EDWARD MOORE. BE (till, o ye winds, and attentive, ye fwains, 'Tis Phebe invites, and replies to my flrains ; The fun never rofe on, fearch all the world through, A ihepherd fo bleft, or a fair one fo true. PHEBE. Glide foftly, ye ftreams, o ye nymphs, round me throng.. 'Tis Collin commands, and attends to my fong ; Search all the world over, you never can find A maiden fo bleft, or a fhepherd fo kind. BOTH. 'Tis love, like the fun, that gives light to the year, The fweeteft of blefiings that life can endear; Our pleafures it brightens, drives forrow away, Gives joy to the night, and enlivens the day. COLLIN. With Phebe befide me, the feafons how gay ! The winters bleak months feem as pleafant as May ; The fummers gay verdure fprings flill as me treads, And linnets and nightingales ling through the meads. PHEBE, L O V E - S O N G S. 22J PHEBE. When Collin is abfent 'tis winter all round, How faint is the funfhine ! how barren the ground ! Inftead of the linnet and nightingales fong, I hear the hoarfe raven croak all the day long. BOTH. Tis love, like the fun, &c. COLLIX. O'er hill, dale, and valley, my Phebe and I Together will wander, and Love fhall be by : Her Collin fhall guard her fafe all the long day, And Phebe at night all his pains fhall repay. PHEBE. By moonlight, when fhadows glide over the plain, His kiffes mail chear me, his arm fhall fuftain ; The dark haunted grove I can trace without fear, Or fleep in a churcH-yard, if Collin is near. BOTH. 'Tis love, like the fun, &c. COLLIN. Ye fhepherds that wanton it over the plain, How fleeting your tranfports ! how lafting your pain 1 Inconflancy fhun, and reward the kind fhe, And learn to be happy of Phebe and me. 2 PHEBE. aS LOVE-SONGS. PHEBE. Ye nymphs, who the pleasures of love never tried, Attend to my ftrains, and take me for your guide ; Your hearts keep from pride and inconftancy free, And learn to be happy of Collin and me. BOTH. 'Tis love, like the fun, that gives light to the year, The fweeteft of bleffings that life can endear ; Our pleafares it brightens, drives forrow away, Gives joy to the night, and enlivens the day. SONG LI. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOW*. COME live with me, and be my love, And we will all the pleafures prove That vallies, groves, or hills and fields, And all the fteepy mountain yields. * One of our earlieft dramatic writers, and a perfon of great genius ; which this beautiful paftoral, had he compofed nothing elfe, would fuf- ficiently evince. It has been generally attributed to Shakfpeare, whofe fame requires not any addition from other peoples performances. The author was killed, by a ftrange accident, in a brothel, 1593. i And LOVE-SONGS. 229 And we will fit upon the rocks, Seeing the (hepherds feed their flocks, By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls Melodious birds fing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of rofes And a thoufand fragrant pofies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the fineft wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull j Fair lined flippers for the cold, With buckles of the pureft gold j A belt of flraw, and ivy buds, With coral clafps, and amber ftuds : And if thefe pleafures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love. The fhepherd fwains mail dance and fing For thy delight each May morning : If thefe delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love. SONG 3 L O V E - S O N G S. SONG LIf. THE NYMPHS REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD. BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH, (" IN HIS YOUNGER DAYS.") IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every (hepherds tongue, Thefe pretty pleafures might me move, To live with thee, and be thy love. Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb ; The reft complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reck'ning yields ; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancys fpring, but forrows fall. Thy gowns, thy (hoes, thy beds of rofes, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy pofies, Soon break, foon wither, foon forgotten, In folly ripe, in reafon rotten. Thy belt of ftraw, and ivy buds, Thy coral clafps, and amber fluds, All thefe in me no means can move, To come to thee, and be thy love. Bit LOVE-SON. GS. 231 But could youth laft, and love ftill breed, Had joy no date, nor age no need ; Then thefe delights my mind might move, To live with thee, and be thy love. SONG LIE. SUMMER. BY THOMAS BREREWOOD ESQ.. WHERE the light cannot pierce, in a grove of tall trees, With my fair-one as blooming as May, Undifturb'd by all found but the fighs of the breeze, Let me pafs the hot noon of the day. When the fun, lefs intenfe, to the weftward inclines, For the meadows the groves we'll forfake, And fee the rays dance, as inverted he mines, On the face of fome river or lake. Where my faireft and I, on its verge as we pafs, (For 'tis me that muft ftill be my theme) Our fhadows may view on the watery glafs, While the fifh are at play in the ftream. May the herds ceafe to low, and the lambkins to bleat, When (he fings me fome amorous ftrain ; All be filent and hufh'd, unlefs Echo repeat The kind words and fweet founds back again. And * 3 Z LOVE-SONGS. And when we return to our cottage at night, Hand in hand as we fauntering ftray, Let the moons filver beams through the leaves give us light, Juft direcl us, and chequer our way. Let the nightingale warble its notes in our walk, As thus gently and flowly we move ; And let no fingle thought be exprefs'd in our talk, But of friendfhip improv'd into love. Thus enchanted each day with thefe rural delights, And fecure from ambitions alarms ; Soft love and repofe lhall divide all our nights, And each morning mall rife with new charms. SONG LIV. WINTER, BY THE SAME. WHEN the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be feen, And the meadows their beauty have loft ; When nature's difrob'd of her mantle of green, And the ftreams are fafl bound with the frofl : While the peafant inactive Hands fhivering with cold, As bleak the winds northerly blow ; And the innocent flocks run for eafe to the fold, With their fleeces befprinkled with fnow ; b L O V E - S O N G S. 233 In the yard when the cattle are fodder'd with ftraw, And they fend forth their breath like a fteam ; And the neat-looking dairy-maid fees fhe muft thaw Flakes of ice that me finds in the cream : When the fweet country maiden, as frefh as a rofe, As me carelefsly trips often flides ; And the ruftics laugh loud, if by falling fhe fhows Ail the charms that her modefty hides : When the lads and the lafles for company join'd. In a croud round the embers are met, Talk of fairies, and witches that ride on the wind, And of ghofts, till they're all in a fweat; Heaven grant in this feafon it may be my lot, With the nymph whom I love and admire, While the ificles hang from the eaves of my cot, I may thither in fafety retire! Where in neatnefs and quiet, and free from furprife, . We may live, and no hardfhips endure ; J^or feel any turbulent paffions arife, 3 ut iuch as each other may cure. SONG 2S4 LOVE-SONGS. SONG LV. CONTENT. A PASTORAL. BY MR. JOHN CUNNINGHAM. O'ER moor lands and mountains, rude, barren, and bare, As wilder d and weary'd I roam, A gentle young fhepherdefs fees my defpair, And leads me o'er lawns to her home : Yellow (heaves from rich Ceres her cottage had crown'd, Green ruflies were ftrew'd on the floor, Her cafement fweet woodbines crept wantonly round, And deck'd the fod feats at her door. We fate ourfelves down to a cooling repaft ; Frem fruits ! and me cull'd me the bed : While thrown from my guard by fome glances flie call, Love flily ftole into my breaft ! I told my foft wifhes ; fhe fweetly replied, (Ye virgins her voice was divine !) I've rich ones rejected, and great ones denied, But take me, fond fhepherd I'm thine. Her air was fo modeft, her afpecl fo meek ! So fimple yet fweet were her charms ! I kifs'd the ripe rofes that glow'd on her check, And lock'd the dear maid in my arms. Now jocund together we tend a few fheep, And if, by yon prattler, the ftream, Reclin'd on her bofom I fink into fleep, Her image Hill foftens my dream. Together L O V E - S O N G S. 235 Together we range o'er the flow riling hills, Delighted with paftoral views, Or reft on the rock whence the ftreamlet diftils, And point out new themes for 'my mufe. To poaap or proud titles fhe ne'er did afpire, The damfel's of humble defcent ; The cottager Peace is well known for her fire, And fhepherds have nam'd her Content. SONG LVL PHILLIDA AND CORYDON. BY NICHOLAS BRETON*. IN the merry month of May, In- a morn by break of day, Forth I walk'd by the wood fide When as May was in his pride, There I fpied, all alone, Phillida ajid Corydon. Much ado there was, god wot ! He would love, and me would not : She faid, never man was true : He faid, none was falfe to you. * A writer of the i6th century, of whom nothing more is known, than that he compofed a variety of poems on all fubje&s, raoft of which are now totally forgotten. Ho 236 L O V E - S O N G S. He faid, he had lov'd her long : She faid, love fhould have no wrong. Cory don would kifs her then, She faid, maids muft kifs no men, Till they did for good and all. Then me made the fhepherd call All the heavens to witnefs truth : Never lov'd a truer youth. Thus, with many a pretty oath, Yea and nay, and faith and troth ! t Such as filly fhepherds ufe When they will not love abufe ; Love, which had been long deluded, Was with kifles fweet concluded : And Phillida, with garlands gay, Was made the lady of the May. SONG LVII. BY THE EARL OF ROCHESTER, ALL my paft life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like tranfitory dreams giv'n o'er, Whofe images are kept in ftore, By memory alone. Whatever LOVE-SONGS. 237 Whatever is to come, is not ; How can it then be mine ? The prefent moment's all my lot, And that, as faft as it is got, Phillis, is wholly thine. Then talk not of inconftancy, Falfe hearts and broken vows : If I, by miracle, can be This live-long minute true to thee, 'Tis all that Heav'n allows. SONG LVIII. BY . . . . BERKELEY E S QJ> CA N love be controul'd by advice ? Can madnefs and reafon agree? O Molly ! who'd ever be wife, If madnefs is loving of thee ? Let fages pretend to defpife The joys they want fpirits to tafte ; Let us feize old Time as he flies, And the blefungs of life while they laft. Dull wifdom but adds to our cares; Brifk love will improve every joy ; Too foon we may meet with grey hairs, Too late may repent being coy. Then, 233 L O V E - S O N G S. Ther), Molly, for what fhould we flay, Till our bell blood begins to run cold ? Our youth we can have but to-day, We may always find time to grow old. SONG LIX. BY MR. ROBERT LLOYD. HOUGH winter its defolate train JL Of froft and of tempefl may bring, Yet Flora fteps forward again, And nature rejoices in fpring. Though the fun in his glories decreaft, Of his beams in the evening is morn, Yet he rifes with joy from the eail, And repairs them again in the morn. But what can youths funfhine recall, Or the blofibms of beauty reftore ? When its leaves are beginning to fall, It dies, and is heard of no more. The fpring time of love then employ, 'Tis a leffon that's eafy to learn, For Cupid's a vagrant, a boy, And his feafons will never return. SONG LOVE-SONGS. 239 SONG LX. BY MR. CHARLES CHURCHILL. WHEN youth, my Celia, 's in the prime, With rapture feize the joyous time j 'Tis Nature dictates ; fport and play, For youth is Natures holiday ; How fweet to feel loves foft alarms, When warm in blood, and full of charms! Dull winter comes with dreary froft, Creation droops, her beauty's loft ; But Spring renews the jocund fcene, And wakes to life the new-born green. When mens gay fummer once is o'er, The genial fpring returns no more ; All then is void of fweet delight, One dreary, taftelefs winters night. How fweet to feel loves foft alarms, When warm in blood, and full of charms. The fun declines, and yields to night, But mines next morn with orient light, Well pleas'd to run his golden race, He traverfes th' immenfe of fpace. Not fo with man, when once he dies, His fun is fet, no more to rife ; Dull pris'ner of eternal night, No more he fees the chearful light. Then 240 LOVE-SONGS. Then take the boon kind Heav'n beftow?, In bloom of youth, when beauty glows; Be blefs'd to-day, perhaps to-morrow May clouded rife, and teem with forrow. Lifes morning paft, the fhadowy noon Brings on the difmal night too foon. How fweet to feel loves foft alarms, When warm in blood, and full of charms. SONG LXL THE WINTERS WALK. BY DR. JOHNSON. BEHOLD, my fair, wheree'er we rove, What dreary profpecls round us rife ; The naked hiii, the leaflefs grove, The hoary ground, the frowning Ikies ! Not only through the wafted plain, Stern Winter is thy force confefs'd ; Still wider fpreads thy horrid reign, I feel thy power ufurp my breaft. Enlivening Hope and fond Defire Refign the heart to Spleen and Care ; Scarce frighted Love maintains her fire, And Rapture faddens to defpair. la LOVE. SONGS. In groundlefs hope, and caufelefs fear, Unhappy man ! behold thy doom ; Still changing with the changeful year, The Have of funfhine and of gloom. Tir'd with vain joys, and falfe alarms, With mental and corporeal ftrife, Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms, And fcreen me from the ills of life. SONG LXII. TO A LADY ASKING HIM HOW LONG HE WOULD LOVE HER. BY SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE? IT is not, Celia, in our power To fay how long our love will laft ; It may be, we, within this hour, May lofe the joys we now do tafte : The bleffed, that immortal be, From change in love are only free. Then, fmce we mortal lovers are, Afk not how long our love will laft; But, while it does, let us take care Each minute be with pleafure pafs'dc Were it not madnefs to deny To live, becaufe we're fure to die i VOL, f. R Fear LOVE-SONGS. Fear not, though love and beauty fail, My reafon fhall my heart direct j Your kindnefs now fhall then prevail, And paffion turn into refpeft : Celia, at worft, you'll, in the end, But change a lover for a friend. SONG LXIII. DEAR Chloe, while thus, beyond meafure, You treat me with doubts and difdain, You rob all your youth of its pleafure, And hoard up an old age of pain. Your maxim, that love is Hill founded On charms that will quickly decay, You'll find to be very ill grounded, When once you its dictates obey. The paffion from beauty firft drawn, Your kindnefs will vaftly improve ; Soft looks, and gay fmiles are the dawn, Fruition's the funfhine of love : And though the bright beams of your eyes Should be clouded, that now are fo gay, And darknefs obfcure all the fkies, We ne'er can forget it was day. Old Darby, with Joan by his fide, You have often regarded with wonder ; He's dropfical, me is fore-ey'd, Yet they're ever uneafy afunder : - Together L O V E - S O N G S. 243 Together they totter about, Or fit in the fun at the door ; And at night, when old Darbys pot's out, His Joan will not fmoke a whifF more. No beauty nonvvit they poflefs, Their feveral failings to fmother; Then what are the charms, can you guefs, That make them fo fond of each other ? 'Tis the pleafing remembrance of youth, The endearments that love did beftow ; The thoughts of pail pieafure and truth, The bell of all bleifings below. Thofe traces for ever will laft, Which ficknefs nor time can remove j For when youth and beauty are pafs'd, .And age brings the winter of love, A friendfhip inienfibly grows, By reviews of fuch raptures as thefe ; The current of fondnefs Hill flows, Which clecrepid old ag-e cannot freeze. SONG LXIV. BY MR. EDWARD MOORE. THAT Jenny's my friend, my delight, and my pride, I always have boafted, and feck not to hidej I dwell on her praifes whereever I go, They fay I'm in love, but I an fiver no, no. R 2 At LOVE. SONG S, At evening oft-times with what pleafure I fee A note from her hand, " I'll be with you at tea ! '' My heart how it bounds, when I hear her below ! But fay not 'tis love, for I anfwer no, no. She fings me a fong, and I echo each (Irain, Again, I cry, Jenny ! fweet Jenny, again ! I kifs her foft lips, as if there I could grow, And fear I'm in love, though I anfwer no, no. She tells me her faults, as me fits OR my knee, I chide her, and fwear {he's an angel to me ; My moulder me taps, and flill bids me think fo : Who knows but me loves, though ihe tells me no, no ? Yet fuch is my temper, fo dull am I grown, I afk not her heart, but would conquer my own : Her bofoms foftfpeace (hall I feek to o'erthrow, And wifh to perfuade, while I anfwer no, no ? From beauty, and wit, and good-humour, ah ! why Should Prudence advife, and compel me to fly? Thy bounties, o Fortune ! make hafte to beftow, And let me deferve her, or dill I fay no. SONG LOVE. SONGS. 2 ;5 SONG LXV. BY THE SAME. HOW blefs'd has my time been, what joys have I known, Since wedlocks' foft bondage made JefTe my own I So joyful my heart is, fo eafy my chain. That freedom is taftelefs, and roving a pain. Through walks, grown with woodbines, as often we itray, Around us our boys and girls frolic and play : How pleafing their fport is the wanton ones fee, And borrow their looks from my JefTe and me. To try her fweet temper, fometimes am I feen In revels all day with the nymphs on the green ; Though painful my abfence, my doubts flie beguile?, And meets me at night with compliance and fmiles. What though on her cheeks the rofe lofes its hue, Her wit and good-humour bloom all the year through ; Time ftill, as he flies, adds increafe to her truth, And gives to her mind what he Heals from her youth. Ye fhepherds fo gay, who make love to infnare, And cheat with falfe vows the too credulous fair ; In fearch of true pleafure how vainly you roam ! To hold it for life, you muft find it at home. R 3 SONG 246 L O V E - S O N G S, SONG LXVI. BY MR. ISAAC BICKERSTAFF IN love mould there meet a fond pair, Untutor'd by fafhion or art ; Whofe wifhes are warm and fincere, Whcfe words are th' excefs of the heart If aught of fubftantial delight On this fide the ftars can be found, 'Tis fure when that couple unite, And Cupid by Kymen is crown'd. SONG LXVII. FROM THE ANCIENT BRITISH ? AWAY ! let nought to love difpleafmg, My Winifreda, move your care; Let nought delay the heavenly bleffing, Nor fqueamiili pride, nor gloomy fear. What though no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood, We'll fnine in more fubftantial honours, And, to be noble, we'll be good. Our * In the comic opera of Love in a Village, L O V E - S O N G S. 247 Our name, while virtue thus we tender, Will fweetly found wheree'er 'tis fpoke ; And all the great ones, they fhall wonder How they refpecl fuch little folk. What though, from Fortunes lavifh bounty, No mighty treafures we poffefs, We'll find, within our pittance, plenty, And be content without excefs. Still {hall each kind returning feafon Sufficient for our wifhes give ; For we will live a life of reafon, And that's the only life to live. Through youth and age, in love excelling, We'll hand in hand together tread j Sweet-fmiling Peace fhall crown our dwelling, And babes, fweet-fmiling babes, our bed. How mould I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung J To fee them look their mothers features, To hear them lifp their mothers tongue ! And when with envy Time tranfported, Shall think to rob us of our joys ; You'll in your girl.s again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boysr R 4 SONG 4-8 LOVE-SONGS. SONG LXVIII. BY MR. GARRICK*. YE fair married dames, who fo often deplore, That a lover once blefs'd is a lover no more ; Attend to my counfel, nor blufh to be taught, That prudence mull cherifh what beauty has caught. The bloom of your cheek, and the glance of your eye, Your rofes and lilies may make the men figh j But rofes and lilies, and fighs pafs away, And paffion will die as your beauties decay. Ufe the man that you wed like your fav'rite giuttar; Though mufic in both, they are both apt to jar j How tuneful and foft from a delicate touch, Not handled too roughly, nor play'd on too much ! The fparrow and linnet will feed from your hand, Grow tame by your kindnefs, and come at command : Exert with your hufband the fame happy fkill ; For hearts, like your birds, may be tam'd to your will. Be gay and good-humour'd, complying and kind ; Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind ; J Tis there that a wife may her conquefts improve, And Hymen mall rivet the fetters of Love. * Sung by mrs. Cibber, in the comedy of The way to keep him. SONG L O V E - S O N G S. 249 SONG LXIX. THE WAY TO KEEP HIM. YE fair poflefs'd of every charm To captivate the will; Whofe fmiles can rage itfelf difarm; Whofe frowns at once can kill : Say, will you deign the verfe to hear, Where flattery bears no part ; An honeft verfe that flows fmcere, And candid from the heart ? Great is your power, but, greater yet, Mankind it might engage, If, as ye all can make a net, Ye all could make a cage. Each nymph a thoufand hearts may take, For who's to beauty blind ? But to what end a pris'ner make, Unlefs we've ftrength to bind ? Attend the counfel often told ; Too often told in vain : Learn that beft art, the art to hold, And lock the lovers chain. Gamefters to little purpofe win, Who lofe again as fait ; Though beauty may the charm begin, 'Tis fweetnefs makes it laft. SONG 2JO L O V E - S O N G S. SONG LXX. FEW HAPPY M A T C H E S, BY ISAAC WATTS D. D. SAY, mighty Love, and teach my fong, To whom thy fweetcft joys belong, And who the happy pairs, Whofe yielding hearts and joining hands Find bleffings twilled with their bands, To foften all their cares. Not the wild herd of nymphs and fwains, That thoughtlefs fly into the chains, Ascuftcm lends the way: If there be blifs without defign, hies and oaks may grow and twine, And be as bleiVd as they. Not fordid fouls of earthly mould, Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold, To dull embraces move : So r.vo rich mountains of Peru May ruth to wealthy marriage too, And make a world of love. Not the mad tribe that hell infpires With wanton flames; thofe raging fires The purer blifs deilroy : L O V E - S O N G S. 251 On JEtnas top let furies wed, And fheets of lightning drefs the bed, T' improve the burning joy. Nor the dull pairs, \vhofe marble forms None of the melting paffions warms, Can mingle hearts and hands : Logs of green wood that quench the coals Are married juft like Stoic fouls, With oliers for their bands. Not minds of melancholy ftrain, Still filent, or that ftill complain, Can the dear bondage blefs : As well may heavenly con forts fpring From two old lutes with ne'er a firing, Or none befides the bafs. Nor can the foft enchantments hold Two jarring fouls of angry mould, The rugged and the keen : Sampfons young foxes might as well In bonds of chearful wedlock dwell, With fire-brands tied between. Nor let the cruel fetters bind A gentle to a favage mind ; For Love abhors the fight : Loofe the fierce tyger from the deer, For native rage and native fear Rife and forbid delight. Two 252 LOVE-SONG S. Two kindeft fouls alone muft meet ; 'Tis friendfhip makes the bondage Aveet, And feeds their mutual loves : Bright Venus, on her rolling throne, Is drawn by gentleft birds alone, And Cupids yoke the doves. SONG LXXI. FOR RANELAGH. BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD E S ($,_ YE belles, and ye flirts, and ye pert little things, Who trip in this frolicfome round ! Pray tell me from whence this indecency fprings, The fexes at once to confound ? What means the cock'd hat, and the mafculine air, With each motion defign'd to perplex ? Bright eyes were intended to languilh, not flare, And foftnefs the teft of your fex. The girl who on beauty depends for fupport, May call every art to her aid ; The bofom difplay'd, and the petticoat fhort, Are famples fhe gives of her trade. But you, on whom Fortune indulgently fmiles, And whom Pride has preferv'd from the fnare, Should flily attack us with coynefs and wiles, Not with open and infolent air. The L O V E - S O N G S. 255 The Venus, whofe ftatue delights all mankind, Shrinks modeftly back from the view, And kindly fhould feem by the artift defign'd To ferve as a model for you. Then learn with her beauties to copy her air, Nor venture too much to reveal ; Our fancies will paint what you cover with care. And double each charm you conceal. The blufhes of morn, and the mildnefs of May, Are charms which no art can procure ; Oh ! be but yourfelves, and our homage we pay, And your empire is folid and fure. But if, Amazon-like, you attack your gallants, And put us in fear of our lives, You may do very well for fitters and aunts, But believe me you'll never be wives. SONG LXXII. THE ROSE. BY CHILD offummer, lovely Rofe, In thee what blufhing beauty glows ; But ere to-morrows fetting fun, Thy beauty fades, thy form is gone ; Yet though no grace thy buds retain, Thy pleafmg odours ilill remain. i Cleoras L O V E - S O N G S. Cleoras fmile, like thine, fweet flower, Shall bloom and wither in an hour ; But mental fragrance ftill fhall laft, When youth and youthful charms are pafs'd. Ye fair, betimes the moral prize, 'Tis lafting beauty to be wife 1 SONGS OMITTED. IN CLASS I. BY MR. CONGREVE*. A Ht flay; ah! turn; ah! whither would yon fly? jt~\ Too charming, too reientlef:; maid ! I follow nor to conquer, but to die; You of die fearful are afraid. I call; for (he, like fleeting air, prefs'd by fome tcmpeiluous wind, ;M the voice of my defpair .3 one pitying look behj I N E X O R A B ? 5 X H A R R TP C A R t Y. SHE, whom abrA'e n\y f !).,:: me above ail n:en dc; My ffiithful f^.iilon is i:i : :,Mt, Nothing exceeds it but her hate. Mud I, ye gods, for ever love ? Mu ft ihe for ever cruel prove ? Muft all my torments, all my grief, Meet no companion, no relief? * In the t-agedy of The Fair Penitent. Charrner, 256 SONGS OMITTED, Charmer, my final fentence give; Let me not in this anguifh live : But fweetly fmile, and eafe my pain, Or frown, and kill me with difdain. LOVE RELAPSED. IF all that I love is her face, From looking I fure can refrain ; In others her likenefs may trace, Or abfence may cure all my pain : This faid from her charms I retir'd, Nor knew I till then how I lov'd ; What prefent my paffion admir'd, In abfence my reafon approv'd. Ah ! why fhould I hope for relief, Where all that I fee is difdain > No pity in her for my grief, No merit in me to complain. Nor yet do I Fortune upbraid, Though robb'd of my freedom and eafe ; Still proud of the choice I have made, Though hopelefs it ever can pleafe. ^SONGS OMITTED. 257 BY ...... THINK not, my love, when fecret grief Preys on my fadden'd heart, Think not 1 wifh a mean relief, Or would from forrow part. Dearly I prize the fighs iincere, That my true fondnefs prove ; Nor could I bear to check the tear That flows from haplefs love. Alas ! though doom'd to hope in vain The joys that love requite, Yet will I cheriih all its pain, With fad but dear delight. This treafur'd grief, this lov'd defpair My lot for ever be ; But, deareft, may the pangs I bear Be never known to thee. SEND back my long ftray'd eyes to me, Which oh ! too long have dwelt on thee : But if frftm you they've learn'd fuch ill, To fweetly fmile, And then beguile, Keep the deceivers, keep them ftill. Send home my harmlefs heart again, Which no unworthy thought could ftain : VOL. I. S But SONGS OMITTED. But if it has been taught by thine, To forfeit both Its word and oath, Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine. Yet fend me back my heart and eyes, For I'll know all thy falfities ; That I one day may laugh, when thou Shalt grieve and mourn, For one will fcorn And prove as falfe as thou art now. BY RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN AH ! cruel maid, how haft thou chang'd The temper of my mind ! My heart, by thec from mirth eftrang'd, Becomes like thee unkind. By fortune favour'd, clear in fame, I once ambitious was ; And friends I had that fann'd the flame, And gave my youth applaufe. But now my weaknefs all abufe, Yet vain their taunts on me ; Friends, fortune, fame itfelf, I'd lofe, To gain one fmile from thee. * In the comic opera of The Duenna. 3 Yet SONGS OMITTED. Yet only thou fhould'ft not defpife My folly or my woe; If I am mad in others eyes, 'Tis thou haft made me fo ! But days like thefe, with doubting curs'd, I will not long endure : Am I defpis'd I know the worft, And alfo know my cure. If, falfe, her vows me dare renounce, She inftant ends my pain : For, oh ! that heart muft break at once Which cannot hate again. THE DESPONDING SHEPHERD. BY MRS. PILKINGTON*. TO melancholy thoughts a prey, With love and grief opprefs'd ; To peace a ftranger all the day, And all the night to reft : * The eight firft, and four laft lines of this fong appear in the above ladys memoirs as they are printed at p. 33. and the prefent copy did not occur time enough to fupply the deficiency. The editor had no hefitatiom in prefixing mrs. Pilkingtons name to this copy ; as it is probable, either that her memory deceived her, or that fome other miftake happened, at the time of printing her memoirs : the whole being evidently the compofition of one and the fame perfon, and pofisfiing too much merit not to have been claimed by a different author. S 2 For 260 SONGS OMITTED. For thee, difdainful fair, I pine And wake the tender figh ; By that obdurate heart of thine, My balmy bleffings fly. The ftubborn rocks, than thee lefs hard, Will kind compaflion mow ; E'en they my loud complaints regard, And echo back my woe. While you, averfe to all my care, Unpitying hear me grieve ; And add new pangs to my defpair, Nor with a fmile relieve. O think how foon that heav'nly bloom, By which you tyrannize, Shall fade, and lhare the common doom, And death mall veil thofe eyes ! Then look to yon celeftial fphere, Where fouls with raptures glow, And dread to need that pity there, Which you denied below. ^ O N G S O M I T T E D. 361 IN CLASS IV. YE virgin pow'rs, defend my heart From am'rous looks and fmiles ; From faucy love, or nicer art, Which moft our fex beguiles : From fighs and vows, from awefu.1 fears, That do to pity move ; From fpeaking filence, and from tears, Thofe fprings that water love. But if through paflion I grow blind, Let honour be my guide ; And where frail nature feems inclin'd, There fix a guard of pride. 'Tis fit the price of Heav'n be pure, And worthy of its aid; For thofe that think themfelves fecure The fooneft are betray'd. Y my fighs you may difcover, What foft wifhes touch my heart ; Eyes can fpeak and tell the lover, What the tongue mufl not impart. B Blufhing fliame forbids revealing Thoughts your breaft may difapprovc ; But 'tis hard and paft concealing When we truly fondly love. BY 262 SONGS OMITTED. BY MR. MENDE Z. * VAIN is ev'ry fond endeavour To refift the tender dartj For examples move us never, We muft feel, to know the fmart. When the fhepherd fwears he's dying, And our beauties fets to view ; Vanity, her aid fupplying, Bids us think it all our due. Softer than the vernal breezes Is the mild deceitful ftrain ; Frowning truth our fex diipleafes, Flatt'ry never fues in vain. Soon, too foon the happy lover Does our tend'reft hopes deceive ; Man was form'd to be a rover, Foolifh woman to believe. BY SHAKSPEAREf. SIGH no more, ladies, figh no more, Men were deceivers ever; One foot at fea, and one on more, To one thing conftant never. Then figh not fo, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny; Converting all your founds of woe Into, hey nonny, nonny. la The Chap let. f la Much ado about Nothing, Sing SONGS OMITTED. 263 Sing no more ditties, fing no mo, Of dumps fo dull and heavy ; The frauds of men were ever fo Since fummer firft was leavy. Then iigh not fo, &c. IN vain, Philander, at my feet You urge your guilty flame, With well-diflembled tears intreat, New oaths and impioqs vows repeat, And wrong Loves facred name. Ah ! ceafe to call that paffion love, Whofe end is to betray ; Too foon, mould I comply, you'd prove What fenfual views your ardour move, And your affe&ion fvvay. And when, to all my fondnefs blind, You'd chafe me from your breaft, Deluded wretch ! when could I find That calm content, that peace of mind, Which I before poflefs'd. IN ,64 SONGS OMITTED. " I N CLASS V, BY THE REV. THOMAS FITZGERALD. TH E charms which blooming beauty fhows From faces heav'nly fair, We to the lily and the rofe, With feinblance apt, compare. With femblance apt, for ah 1 how foon How loon they all decay ! The lily droops, the rofe is gone, And beauty fades away. But when bright virtue mines confefs'd, With fvveet difcretion join'd ; When mildnefs calms the peaceful breatf. And wiidom guides the mind : ' When charms like thefe, dear maid, confpire Thy perfon to approve, They kindle generous chaite defire, And everlafting love. Beyond the reach of time or fate Thefe graces mall endure ; Still, like the paffion they create, Eternal, conftant, pure. St. University of California RN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY SOUTHERN REGK 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. . APR 13 Mi MR 6 199! A 000007943 4 UNIVERSI1Y OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, WOCi.FS. CALIF.