,
Of Love and Friendship too.

_A_ SONG.

_Set by Mr._ FISHBURNE.

[Music]

Long had _Damon_ been admir'd,
By the Beauties of the Plain;
Ev'ry Breast warm Love inspir'd,
For the proper handsome Swain:
The choicest Nymph _Sicilia_ bred,
Was won by his resistless Charms:
Soft Looks, and Verse as smooth, had led
And left the Captive in his Arms.

But our _Damon's_ Soul aspires,
To a Goddess of his Race;
Though he sues with chaster Fires,
This his Glories does deface:
The fatal News no sooner blown
In Whispers up the Chesnut Row;
The God _Sylvanus_ with a Frown,
Blasts all the Lawrels on his Brow.

Swains be wise, and check desire
In it's soaring, when you'll woe:
_Damon_ may in Love require
_Thestyles_ and _Laura_ too:
When Shepherds too ambitious are,
And Court _Astrea_ on a Throne;
Like to the shooting of a Star,
They fall, and thus their shining's gone.

_A_ SONG.

_Set by Mr._ FISHBURN.

[Music]

Pretty _Floramel_, no Tongue can ever tell,
The Charms that in thee dwell;
Those Soul-melting Pleasures,
Shou'd the mighty _Jove_ once view, he'd be in Love,
And plunder all above,
To rain down his Treasure:
Ah! said the Nymph in the Shepherd's Arms,
Had you half so much Love as you say I have Charms;
There's not a Soul, created for Man and Love,
More true than _Floramel_ wou'd prove,
I'd o'er the World with thee rove.

Love that's truly free, had never Jealousie,
But artful Love may be
Both doubtful and wooing;
Ah! dear Shepherdess, ne'er doubt, for you may guess,
My Heart will prove no less,
Than ever endless loving:
Then cries the Nymph, like the Sun thou shalt be,
And I, like kind Earth, will produce all to thee;
Of ev'ry Flower in Love's Garden I'll Off'rings pay
To my Saint. Nay then pray
Take not those dear Eyes away.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ ROBERT KING.

[Music]

By shady Woods and purling Streams,
I spend my Life in pleasing Dreams;
And would not for the World be thought
To change my false delightful Thought:
For who, alas! can happy be,
That does the Truth of all things see?
_For who, alas! can happy be,_
_That does the Truth of all things see._

_A_ SONG. _Sett by Mr._ HENRY PURCELL.

[Music]

In _Chloris_ all soft Charms agree,
Enchanting Humour pow'rful Wit;
Beauty from Affectation free,
And for Eternal Empire fit:
Where-e'er she goes, Love waits her Eyes,
The W