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DAPHNIS AND CHLOE.

DAPHNIS stood pensive in the shade,
With arms across and head reclined;
Pale looks accused the cruel Maid,

And sighs relieved his love-sick mind.
His tuneful pipe all broken lay.
Looks, sighs, and actions seemed to say,
'My CHLOE is unkind!'

'Why ring the woods with warbling throats? Ye larks, ye linnets, cease your strains! I faintly hear, in your sweet notes,

My CHLOE'S Voice, that wakes my pains. Yet why should you, your song forbear? Your mates delight your Song to hear; But CHLOE mine disdains!'

As thus he melancholy stood,
Dejected as the lonely dove,

Sweet sounds broke gently through the wood. 'I feel the sound! My heart-strings move! 'Twas not the nightingale that sung!

No! 'Tis my CHLOE's Sweeter tongue!
Hark! Hark! What says my Love?'

How foolish is the Nymph, she cries,
Who trifles with her Lover's pain!
Nature still speaks in Woman's eyes;

Our artful lips were made to feign!
O, DAPHNIS! DAPHNIS! 'twas my pride!
'Twas not my heart, thy love denied!
Come back, dear Youth! again!

As t' other day my hand he seized,
My blood with thrilling motion flew !
Sudden, I put on looks displeased;

And hasty from his hold withdrew!
'Twas fear alone, thou simple Swain!
Then, hadst thou pressed my hand again,
My heart had yielded too!

'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blamed!
That swelled thy lip and rosy cheek.
Think not thy skill in Song defamed;
That lip should other pleasures seek!
Much, much, thy music I approve;
Yet break thy pipe! for more I love,

Much more, to hear thee speak!

My heart forebodes that I'm betrayed!
DAPHNIS, I fear, is ever gone!
Last night, with DELIA's dog he played.
Love by such trifles first comes on!
Now, now, dear Shepherd! come away!
My tongue would now my heart obey!
Ah! CHLOE! thou art won!

The Youth stepped forth, with hasty pace,
And found where wishing CHLOE lay.
Shame sudden lightened in her face;
Confused, she knew not what to say.
At last, in broken words, she cried,
To morrow, you, in vain, had tried;
But I am lost to-day!

MY OWN EPITAPH.

LIFE is a jest; and all things show it!
I thought so once; but, now, I know it!

MOLLY MOG;

OR,

THE FAIR MAID OF THE Inn.

SAVS my uncle, 'I pray you, discover
What hath been the cause of your woes?
Why you pine, and you whine, like a Lover?'
'I have seen MOLLY MOG of the Rose!...

'I know that by Wits 'tis recited,
"That women, at best, are a clog!"
But I am not so easily frighted
From loving of sweet MOLLY MOG!

'The Schoolboy's desire is Play Day,
The Schoolmaster's joy is to flog,
The Milkmaid's delight is on May Day;
But mine is on sweet MOLLY MOG!

'Will-a-wisp leads the traveller a gadding

Through ditch, and through quagmire and bog; But no light can set me a madding,

Like the eyes of my Sweet MOLLY MOG!

'For guineas in other men's breeches,
Your Gamesters will palm, and will cog!
But I envy them none of their riches,
So I may win sweet MOLLY MOG!

'The heart, when half-wounded, is changing;
It here and there leaps like a frog!
But my heart can never be ranging,
'Tis so fixed upon sweet MOLLY MOG!

'Who follows all Ladies of Pleasure,
In pleasure is thought but a hog!
All the Sex cannot give so good measure
Of joys as my sweet MOLLY MOG!

'I feel, I'm in love to distraction!
My senses all lost in a fog!
And nothing can give satisfaction
But thinking of sweet MOLLY MOG!

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'A letter when I am inditing,

Comes CUPID, and gives me a jog!
And I fill all the paper with writing
Of nothing but sweet MOLLY MOG!

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