Fear no more the lightning flash, Thou haft finish'd joy and moan. SONG. UNDER the green-wood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither, Here fhall he fee No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition fhun, And loves to live i' the fun; Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither, Here fhall he fee No enemy But winter and rough weather. THE FORCE OF LOVE. BEING your flave, what should I do, but tend When you have bid your fervant once adieu. Tho' you do any thing, he thinks no ill. WHOLESOME COUNSEL. WHEN as thine eye hath chofe the dame And ftall'd the deer that thou fhould'st strike, Let reafon rule things worthy blame, As well as fancy **** Take counsel of fome wiser head, And when thou com'ft thy tale to tell, But plainly fay thou lov'ft her well, What though her frowning brows be bent, Her cloudy looks will calm ere night; And then too late she will repent That thus diffembled her delight; And twice defire, ere it be day, What though she strive to try her ftrength, And ban and brawl, and say thee nay; Her feeble force will yield at length, When craft hath taught her thus to say: "Had women been as ftrong as men, "In faith, you had not had it then." And, to her will frame all thy ways, The strongest caftle, tow'r, and town, Serve always with affured truft, And in thy fuit be humble true; Unless thy lady prove unjust, Please never thou to choose anew. When time shall ferve, be thou not flack The wiles and guiles that women work, The tricks and toys that in them lurk, But foft; enough, too much (I fear) SYMPATHIZING LOVE. As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made; Beafts did leap, and birds did fing, Every thing did banish moan, That to hear her fo complain, Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'ft in vain; Senfelefs trees, they cannot hear thee, Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee, King Pandion he is dead; All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; Whilft as fickle fortune fmiled, Words are easy, like the wind, Faithful friends are hard to find. Whilft thou haft wherewith to spend : |