IN THE MEASURE OF THE ORIGINAL .

With cheeks where eternal paradise bloom'd,
Sweet Eaili the soul of Kais had consum'd.
Transported her heavenly graces he view'd:
Of slumber no more he thought, nor of food,
Love rais'd in their glowing bosoms his throne,
Adopting the chosen pair as his own.
Together on flowery seats they repos'd;
Their lips not one idle moment were clos'd.
To mortals they gave no hint of their smart:
Love only the secret drew from each heart.

By classic Cam a lovely maiden grew:
The sun scarce shone upon her tender birth
Ere she was left, the loneliest thing on earth,
An orphan bent by every wind that blew.
But He who ne'er forsakes the fatherless,
Who led confiding Ruth by hand unseen
The freely scatter'd barley-ears to glean,
Was ever with her in her loneliness.
Thus in her solitude her mind became
Of gentleness and love the sanctuary.
Thither one day, 'twas in that season merry
In which the Cuckoo sings her own sweet name,
Walking perchance, the peerless maid I spied,

The Crimson Clouds, with Gold array'd,
O'er the rich Dawn their Pomp display'd;
The Sun in blushing Beams arose,
The Mountains glitter as he goes;
The tow'ring Lark her Anthems sings,
And Heav'n's blew Arch melodious rings;
The tuneful Thrush kept Time below,
The frisking Lambs leap to and fro;
Each feather'd Warbler stretch'd his Throat,
And Eccho answer'd ev'ry Note.

Myrtilla now, relenting Maid,
Was walking by a verdant Shade,
There loosely dress'd in lovely Green,

HAIL ! Hymen , thou propitious god of joy,
Come, now, thy genial influence employ,
Perfume with odours thy hymenial grove,
To bless this happy pair with endles love.
No perjur'd oaths are here, no impious pray'r,
The transcient hopes of fortune's gifts to share,
But here two faithful hearts impartial join'd,
To make a happy pair in one combin'd;
When closely link'd in matrimonial bands,
Th' auspicious god the mutual pair commands,
Sincerity the pow'r their motto names,
And love's records the blest proceeding claims.

A PASTORAL

Beneath a rev'rend oak, whose spreading boughs
Hung o'er the plain and form'd a pleasing shade,
Two lovers lay exchanging mutual vows; —
The young P HILANDER and his long-lov'd maid.

Not less in love than Eden's loving pair,
With fond embraces each encircling each;
Strangers to discontent, no pain or care,
Save what fond love creates, their breasts could reach.

O D ELIA , thus began th' enraptur'd swain,

I.

The stormy ocean roving,
My William seeks the foe;
Ah me! the pain of loving,
To war when lovers go!

II.

O! why my locks so yellow,
Should rosy garlands bind,
When trembles yonder willow,
As blows the sullen wind?

III.

Ye nymphs, who feel no anguish,
My garlands gay ye wove,
But I in absence languish,
And fear for him I love.

IV.

Nor yet the sprays of willow
Shall wave my temples o'er,
But weeds, that ocean's billow
Leaves dark upon the shore.

V.

The king of day unveiled, when skies are clear,
Thy path assigned may cross his noon-tide face;
Our eyes, awaiting thee, may gauge the space
Which severs thine from his remoter sphere,
And ours from both — how far beyond, and yet how near.
Thee, millions hail; in every distant place
The Star of Love, to each admiring race,
Throughout all times, in thee, united here.
The same, thou reignest in the flushing dawn;
Or sinking in the west at golden eve,
The glad Precursor of a day new-born;
Or hovering o'er the shadowy curtains drawn

I Love a Nymph. A lack a day!
But dare not say I love her.
Perhaps she may thy love repay;
Speak then thy thoughts, and prove her.

If I reveal, and she reject
My love, I'm quite undone.
Weomen when we do least expect,
We see are often wonne.

True, but her state great flocks requires,
Mine are but poor and small.
Peace Fool, love onely love desires
And nothing else at all.

[Chorus for three together]

They who do love for private gain,
May suffer shipwrack in the Main.

Mary sings: the ravished heavens
Hush the music of their spheres;
Soft her voice, her beauty fairer
Than the glancing stars appears:
While to Jesus, slumbering nigh,
Thus she sings her lullaby:

" Sleep my Babe, my God, my Treasure,
Gently sleep: but ah, the sight
With its beauty so transports me,
I am dying of delight:
Thou canst not thy Mother see,
Yet thou breathest flames to me.

" If within your lids unfolded,
Slumbering eyes, you seem so fair;
When upon my gaze you open,
How shall I your beauty bear?

Some love for wealth and some for hue,
And none of both these loves are true;
For when the mill hath lost her sailes,
Then must the miller lose his vailes:
Of grass comes hay,
And flowers faire will soon decay:
Of ripe comes rotten,
In age all beautie is forgotten.

Some love too high and some too lowe,
And of them both great griefs do growe;
And some do love the common sort,
And common folk use common sport.
Look not too high,
Lest that a chip fall in thine eye:
But high or lowe,
Ye may be sure she is a shrewe.