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Hat Beauties does Flora disclose ?
How sweet are her Smiles upon

Tweed ?
Yet Mary's fill sweeter than those,

Both Nature and Fancy exceed.
Nor Daisie, nor sweet blushing Rore,

Not all the gay Flowers of the Field, Not Tweed gliding gently thro' those,

Such Beauty and Pleasure does yield.

The Warblers are heard in the Grove,

The Linnet, the Lark and the Thrush, The Black-bird, and sweet cooing Dove,

With Mufick enchant ev'ry Bush. Come let us go forth to the Mead,

Let us see how the Primroses spring, We'll lodge in Comc Village on Tweed, And love while the feather'd Folks ling.


How does my love pass the long Day?

Does Mary not 'tend a few Sheep? Do they never carelesly Atray,

While happily she lyes asleep?
Tweed's. Murmures should lull her to Rest,

Kind Nature indulging my Bliss,
To relieve the soft Pains of my Breast;
I'd steal an ambrosial Kiss.

T:s she does the Virgins excell,

No Beauty with her may compare, Love's Graces all round her do dwell,

She's faireft, where Thousands are fair. Say, Charmer, where do thy Flocks ftray?

Oh! tell me at Noon where they feed; Shall I seek them on sweet winding Tay, Or the pleasanter Banks of the Twerd.


SON G. To the Tune of, wo's my Heart thas we

Should funder.


S Hamilla then my own,

O the Dear, the charming Treasure!
Fortune now in vain shall frown,
Al my future Life is Pleasure..

SEE how rich with youthful Grace,
Beauty warms her cv'ry Feature;
Smiling Heaven is in her face,
All is gay, and all is Nature:

SEE whai mingling Charms arise,
Rosy Smiles and kindling Blushes;
Love fits laughing in her Eyes,
And betrays her secret Wilhes.

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