Would you have a young virgin of fifteen years 237

Why fo pale and wan, fond lover

We'll drink, and we'll never have done, boys

While the lover is thinking

Where oxen do low

When Chloe we ply

Wou'd you chufe a wife

Why fhou'd a foolish marriage vow
When lovely Phillis thou art kind
Why we love, and why we hate
When bright Aurelia tript the plain
While filently I lov'd, nor dar'd
We all to conquering beauty bow

248

253

Willy's rare, and Willy's fair

321

When betimes on the morn to the fields we repair 330

When the bright God of day

335

Whilft I alone your foul poffefst

338

When I was a young lad

357

When my locks are grown hoary

360

When thy beauty appears

370

Would fate to me Belinda give
When Delia on the plain appears

What tho' they call me country lafs

391

396

402

Whoe'er beholds my Helen's face
Why will Florella, when I gaze

403

415

Were I laid on Greenland's coast

419

421

422

What woman cou'd do, I have try'd to be free 432

When

With ev'ry grace young Strephon chose

We have no idle pratting

gay Philander fell a prize

438

439

443

V.

Virgins are like the fair flower in its luftre
Virgins, if e'er at last it prove

418

431

Ye

41

Ye fhepherds and nymphs that adorn the gay plain 47

Young Philander woo'd me lang

189

Ye blytheft lads and laffes gay

193

Young Corydon and Phillis

258

Ye beaux of pleasure

274

Yes I could love if I cou'd find

287

Young Roger of the mill

379

You meaner beauties of the night

Young virgins love pleasure

Ye nymphs and filvan gods
Youth's the feason made for joys
Ye powers that o'er mankind prefide

400

403

411

420

431

Bonny

Bonny CHRISTY.

H

OW fweetly fmells the fimmer green!
Sweet tafte the peach and cherry;
Painting and order please our een,
And claret makes us merry :

But fineft colours, fruits and flowers,
And wine, tho' I be thirfty,

Lofs a' their charms and weaker powers,
Compar'd with thofe of Chrifty.

When wand'ring o'er the flow'ry park,
No nat'ral beauty wanting,
How lightsome is't to hear the lark,
And birds in confort chanting?
But if my Chrifty tunes her voice,
I'm rapt in admiration;

My thoughts with extafies rejoice,
And drap the hale creation.

Whene'er fhe fmiles a kindly glance,
I take the happy omen,
And aften mint to make advance,
Hoping fhe'll prove a woman:
But dubious of my ain defert,
My fentiments I fmother;
With fecret fighs I vex my heart,
For fear the love another.

Thus fang blate Edie by a burn,
His Chrifty did o'er-hear him;
She doughtna let her lover mourn,
But e'er he wift drew near him.
VOL. I.

B

She

She fpake her favour with a look,
Which left nae room to doubt her;
He wifely this white minute took,
And flang his arms about her.

My Chrifty!-witness, bonny ftream,
Sic joys frae tears arifing,
I wish this may na be a dream?
O love the maift furprising!
Time was too precious now for tauk ;
This point of a' his wishes
He wadna with fet fpeeches bauk,
But war'd it a' on kiffes.

H

The Bush aboon TRAQUAIR.

EAR me, ye nymphs, and every fwain,
I'll tell how Peggy grieves me,

Tho' thus I languish, thus complain,
Alas! fhe ne'er believes me.
My vows and fighs, like filent air,
Unheeded never move her ;
At the bonny bufh aboon Traquair,
'Twas there I firft did love her.

That day fhe fmil'd, and made me glad,
No maid feem'd ever kinder;
I thought myself the luckieft lad,
So fweetly there to find her.
I try'd to footh my am'rous flame,
In words that I thought tender;
If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame,
I meant not to offend her.

Yet now she scornful flees the plain,

The fields we then frequented; If e'er we meet the fhews difdain, She looks as ne'er acquainted.

The

The bonny blush bloom'd fair in May,
Its fweets I'll ay remember;

But now her frowns make it decay,
It fades as in December.

Ye rural powers, who hear my ftrains,
Why thus fhould Peggy grieve me?
Oh! make her partner in my pains,
Then let her fmiles relieve me.
If not, my love will turn defpair,
My paffion no more tender,
I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair,
To lonely wilds I'll wander.

An O D E.

To the Tune of, Polwarth on the Green,

HO' beauty, like the rose,

ΤΗ

That Imiles on Polwarth Green,

In various colours fhows,

As 'tis by fancy feen:

Yet all its different glories ly

United in thy face,

And vertue, like the fun on high,

Gives rays to ev'ry grace.

So charming is her air,

So fmooth, fo calm her mind, That to fome angel's care

Each motion feems affign'd:

But yet fo chearful, fprightly, gay,
The joyful moments fly,

As if for wings they ftole the ray
She darteth from her eye.

C.

But