Tis true, you may with art and pain,
Keep in fome glowings of defire,
But ftill thofe glowings which remain,
Are only athes of the fire.

Then let us free each other's foul,

And laugh at the dull conftant fool, Who would love's liberty control, And teach us how to whine by rule.

Let us no impofitions fet,

Or clogs upon each other's heart; But, as for pleasure first we met, So now for pleasure let us part.

We both have spent our stock of love, So confequently should be free; Thyrfis expe&s you in yon' grove, And pretty Chloris stays for me.

VII. Set by Mr. De Fefch.

PHILLIS, this pious talk give o'er,
And modeftly pretend no more;
It is too plain an art:
Surely you take me for a fool,

And would by this prove me fo dull,
As not to know your heart.

In vain you fancy to deceive,
For truly I can ne'er believe
But this is all a fham:
Since any one may plainly fee,
You'd only fave yourself with me,
And with another damn.

VIII. Set by Mr. Smith.

STILL, Dorinda, I adore,
Think I mean not to deceive you;
For I lov'd you much before,
And, alas now love you more,
Though I force myfelf to leave you.

Staying, I my vows fhall fail;
Virtue yields, as love grows ftronger;
Fierce defires will fore prevail;
You are fair, and I am frail,
And dare trust myself no longer.

You, my love, too nicely coy, Left I fhould have gain'd the treasure, Made my vows and oaths destroy The picating hopes I did enjoy Of all my future peace and pleasure.

To my vows I have been true, And in filence hid my anguish, But I cannot promise too What my love may make me do, While with her for whom I languish.

For in thee ftrange magic lics, And my heart is too, too tender;