And fung the great Creator's praife
To all the bless'd above;

So when the laft and dreadful bour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead fhall live, the living die,
And Mufic fhall untune the fky.

THE

TEARS of A MY N T A,

FOR THE

DEATH of DA MO N.

O

SONG.

I.

Na bank, befide a willow,

Heav'n her cov'ring, earth her pillow,

Sad Amynta figh'd alone:

From the chearless dawn of morning "Till the dews of night returning, Singing thus fhe made her moan:

Hope is banish'd,

Joys are vanish'd,

Damon, my belov'd, is gone!

II.

Time, I dare thee to difcover Such a youth, and fuch a lover 3 Oh! fo true, fo kind was he! Damon was the pride of nature, Charming in his every feature; Damon liv'd alone for me; Melting kiffes,

Murmuring bliffes:

Who fo liv'd and lov'd as we!

III.

Never shall we curfe the morning,

Never bless the night returning,

Sweet embraces to restore:

Never shall we both lie dying,

Nature failing, Love supplying

All the joys he drain'd before :

Death come end me

To befriend me;

Love and Damon are no more.

A

A S O N G.
SONG.

I.

YLVIA the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,

SYL

Felt an innocent warmth, as she lay on the green :

She had heard of a pleasure, and fomething she guest By the towzing, and tumbling, and touching her breaft:

She faw the men eager, but was at a loss,

What they meant by their fighing, and kiffing fo clofe;

By their praying and whining,

And clasping and twining,

And panting and wishing,

And fighing and kiffing,

And fighing and kifling fo close.
II.

Ah! fhe cry'd; ah for a languifhing maid,
In a country of Christians, to die without aid!
Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Protestant parfon, or Catholic priest,
To inftruct a young virgin, that is at a loss,
What they meant by their fighing, and kifling fo
clofe!

By their praying and whining,

And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,

And fighing and kiffing,

And fighing and kiffing so close.

III.

Cupid in shape of a swain did

appear, He faw the fad wound, and in pity drew near; Then show'd her his arrow, and bid her not fear; For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear: When the balm was infus'd, fhe was not at a lofs, What they meant by their fighing, and kiffing fo clofe;

By their praying and whining,

And clafping and twining,

And panting and wishing,

And fighing and kiffing,

And fighing and kiffing so close.

THE

LADY'S SON G.

I.

A Choir of bright beauties in fpring did appear,

To choose a May-lady to govern the year;

All the nymphs were in white, and the shepherds in green;

The garland was given, and Phyllis was queen : But Phyllis refus'd it, and fighing did fay,

I'll not wear a garland while Pan is away.

II.

While Pan, and fair Syrinx, are fled from our fhore,
The Graces are banifh'd, and Love is no more:
The foft God of pleasure, that warm'd our defires,
Has broken his bow, and extinguifh'd his fires :
And vows that himself, and his mother, will mourn,
"Till Pan and fair Syrinx in triumph return.
III.

Forbear your addreffes, and court us no more;
For we will perform what the Deity swore :
But if you dare think of deferving our charms,
Away with your sheephooks, and take to your arms:
Then laurels and myrtles your brows shall adorn,
When Pan, and his fon, and fair Syrinx, return.