But, ah! the fad and fatal day,

My love, the pride of fwains, was drown'd. Now droops the willow o'er the stream, Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove, Dire Fancy paints him in my dream, Awake I mourn my hopeless love.

Flowers of Edinburgh.

Y love was once a bonny lad,

MY

He was the flower of all his kin.

The abfence of his bonny face

Has rent my tender heart in twain.

I day nor night find no delight,

In filent tears I still complain;

And exclaim 'gainst those my rival foes,
That ha'e ta'en from me my darling fwain.

Despair and anguish fills my breast,

Since I have loft my blooming rofe;

I figh and moan while others rest,
His abfence yields me no repose.
To feek my love I'll range and rove,

Thro' every grove and distant plain;
Thus I'll ne'er cease, but spend my days,
To hear tidings from my darling swain.

There's naething strange in Nature's change,
Since parents fhew fuch cruelty;

They caus'd my love from me to range,
And knows not to what destiny.

The pretty kids and tender lambs

May cease to sport upon the plain;
But I'll mourn and lament in deep discontent
For the abfence of my darling fwain.

Kind NEPTUNE, let me thee entreat,
To fend a fair and pleasant gale;
Ye dolphins sweet, upon me wait,
And convey me on your tail;
Heavens bless my voyage with success,
While croffing of the raging main,
And send me safe o'er to that distant shore,
To meet my lovely darling fwain.

All joy and mirth at our return

Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay; The bells fhall ring and sweet birds fing, To grace and crown our nuptial day. Thus blefs'd wi' charms in my love's arms, My heart once more I will regain ;

Then I'll range no more to a distant shore, But in love will enjoy my darling swain.

Fourteenth of October.

YE gods! was STREPHON's picture bleft

Υ

With the fair heaven of CHLOE'S breast?

Move fofter, thou fond flutt'ring heart,
Oh gently throb,-too fierce thou art.
Tell me, thou brightest of thy kind,
For STREPHON was the blifs defign'd?
For STREPHON's fake, dear charming maid,
Didft thou prefer his wand'ring shade?

And thou, bleft fhade, that fweetly art
Lodg'd fo near my CHLOE's heart,
For me the tender hour improve,
And foftly tell how dear I love.
Ungrateful thing! it fcorns to hear
Its wretched master's ardent prayer,
Ingroffing all that beauteous heaven,
That CHLOE, lavish maid, has given.

I cannot blame thee; were I lord
Of all the wealth these breasts afford,
I'd be a miser too, nor give

An alms to keep a god alive.
Oh! smile not thus, my lovely fair,
On these cold looks that lifeless are ;
Prize him whose bosom glows with fire,
With eager love and soft desire.

'Tis true, thy charms, O pow'rful maid,
To life can bring the silent shade :
Thou canst surpass the painter's art,
And real warmth and flames impart.
But, oh! it ne'er can love like me,
I ever lov'd, and lov'd but thee:
Then, charmer, grant my fond request,
Say, thou canst love, and make me bleft.

Fairest of her Days.

HOE'ER beholds my HELEN's face,

WH

And fays not that good hap has she;

Who hears her speak, and tents her grace,
Sall think nane ever spake but she.
The short way to refound her praise,
She is the fairest of her days.

Who knows her wit, and not admires,
He maun be deem'd devoid of skill;
Her virtues kindle ftrong defires
In them that think upon her still.
The fhort way, etc.

Her red is like unto the rose

Whase buds are op'ning to the fun,
Her comely colours do disclose
The first degree of ripeness won.
The Short way, etc.

And with the red is mixt the white,
Like to the fun and fair moonshine,

That does upon clear waters light,
And makes the colour feem divine.
The fhort way to refound her praife,
She is the fairest of her days.

GILDEROY.

H! CHLORIS, could I now but sit

AH

As unconcern'd as when

Your infant-beauty could beget
No happiness nor pain.

When I this dawning did admire,
And prais'd the coming day,
I little thought that rifing fire
Would take my rest away.

Your charms in harmless childhood lay,

As metals in a mine.

Age from no face takes more away,

Than youth conceal'd in thine.

But as your charms infenfibly
To their perfection preft:
So love as unperceiv'd did fly,
And center'd in my breast.

My paffion with your beauty grew,
While CUPID at my heart,
Still as his mother favour'd you,

Threw a new-flaming dart.
Each gloried in their wanton part :
To make a lover, he
Employ'd the utmost of his art;
To make a beauty, she.

A

Gallowfhiels.

H the shepherd's mournful fate!

When doom'd to love, and doom'd to languish,

To bear the scornful fair one's hate,

Nor dare disclose his anguish!

Yet eager looks, and dying sighs,

My fecret foul discover,

While rapture trembling through mine eyes,

Reveals how much I love her: