CLARINDA... FANNY OF THE DALE. Were mine, ye great! your envied lot, In gilded courts to dwell; I'd leave them for a lonely cot With Love and Kitty Fell. CLARINDA. CLARINDA'S lips I fondly press'd, So soft a calm, in such a part, A stubborn oak the shepherd sees, FANNY OF THE DALE. LET the declining damask rose The summer bloom more freely glows Is there a sweet that decks the field, Can such a vernal fragrance yield- 111 The painted belles, at court revered, The willows bind Pastora's brows, Her fond advances fail; For Damon pays his warmest vows Might honest truth at last succeed, Thrice happy could he tune his reed DAPHNE. No longer, Daphne, I admire With all the rigours of disdain You scorn'd my amorous tale. When Celia cried, • How senseless she, That has such vows refused; Had Damon given his heart to me, It had been kinder used. The man's a fool that pines and dies, The gentle bliss that one denies, A thousand will enjoy.' Such charming words, so void of art, And though the maid subdued my heart, A wretch condemn'd shall Daphne prove; In the sweet calendar of love THYRSIS. THE pendent forest seem'd to nod, In drowsy fetters bound; And fairy elves in circles trod When Thyrsis sought the conscious grove, The stars their silver radiance shed, So thrilling sweet thy numbers flow L To hear sad Philomel complain Then quickly swell the melting strain, Give up all hopes, unhappy swain, The shepherd droop'd-the tyrant, Death, A MAN TO MY MIND. WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A LADY. SINCE wedlock's in vogue, and stale virgins despised, [mised;To all batchelors, greeting, these lines are preI'm a maid that would marry, but where shall I find (I wish not for fortune) a man to my mind? Not the fair-weather fop, fond of fashion and lace; Not the squire that can wake to no joys but the chase; [bind: Not the free-thinking rake, whom no morals can Neither this-that-nor the' other's the man to my mind. end; Not the ruby-faced sot, that topes world without [friend; Not the drone, who can't relish his bottle and Not the fool, that's too fond; nor the churl that's unkind: [mind. Neither this-that-nor the' other's the man to my Not the wretch with full bags, without breeding or merit; Not the Flash, that's all fury without any spirit; Not the fine master Fribble, the scorn of mankind: Neither this-that-nor the' other's the man to my mind. But the youth in whom merit and sense may conspire ; admire ; Whom the brave must esteem, and the fair should [combined: In whose heart love and truth are with honour This-this-and no other's the man to my mind. TO CHLOE WITH A ROSE. YES, every flower that blows Had fix'd my wandering eye. It scented every breeze That wanton'd o'er the stream, To deck that beauteous maid, And as her balmy sweets On Chloe's breast she pours, |