If in all thy love there ever Was one wav'ring thought, if thy flame, Were not still even, ftill the fame, Know this, Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when the appears i'th' room, Thou doft not quake, and art ftruck dumb, Doft not speak thy words twice over, Know Know this, Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If fondly thou doft not mistake, Perfwad'ft thyself that jefts are broken, Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when thou appear'ft to be within, Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when thy ftomach calls to eat, Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If If by this thou dost discover Thou doft begin to love anew ; Thou lov'ft amifs, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. TE SONG IX. ELL me, Damon, doft thou languish Melting fill in fpeechlefs anguish For the maid thou doft admire ? If thy heart fuch paffion prove, "Shepherd, thou doft truly love. Flying, doft thou ftill pursue her? Does each rivals merit grieve thee? Canft Canft thou view each bright perfection Then in love if there be pleasure, SONG X. BY MISS ΑΙ ΚΙΝ. OME here fond youth, whoe'er thou be And if thy breast have felt so wide a wound, I'll teach thee what it is to love, It is to be all bath'd in tears, To live upon a fmile for years, To lie whole ages at a beautys feet; To kneel, to languish and implore, And ftill though she disdain, adore; It is to do all this and think thy fufferings fweet. It It is to gaze upon her eyes With eager joy and fond surprise Yet temper'd with fuch chafte and aweful fear It is to hope, though hope were loft, Though heaven and earth thy paffion croft; Though the were bright as fainted queens above, And thou the leaft and meaneft fwain That folds his flock upon the plain, Yet if thou dar'ft not hope, thou doft not love. It is to quench thy joy in tears, To nurfe ftrange doubts and groundless fears; If pangs of jealoufy thou haft not prov'd, Though fhe were fonder and more true Than any nymph old poets drew, Oh never dream again that thou haft lov'd. If when the darling maid is gone, Thou doft not feek to be alone, Wrapt in a pleafing trance of tender woe; And mufe, and fold thy languid arms, Feeding thy fancy on her charms, Thou doft not love, for love is nourish'd fo. If any hopes thy bofom share But thofe which love has planted there, |