she tunes the trembling Strings;
Oft does some pitying Words rehearse,
But little means the thing she Sings.

Cease on her lovely Looks to gaze,
Nor court your Ruin in her Eyes;
Her Looks too 's dangerous as her Face,
At once engages and Destroys:
Speak not if you'd avoid your Fate,
For then she darts Resentment home;
But fly, fly _Damon_ e'er too late,
Or else be Deaf, be Blind, be Dumb.

MERCURY _to_ PARIS, _in the Prize Musick, Compos'd by Mr._ John
Eccles.

[Music]

Fear not Mortal, none shall harm thee,
With this Sacred Rod I'll Charm thee;
Freely gaze, and view all over,
Thou mayst every Grace discover:
Though a thousand Darts fly round thee,
Fear not Mortal, none can Wound thee;
_Though a thousand Darts fly round thee,_
_Fear not Mortal, none can Wound thee._

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ W. Morley.

[Music]

Born to surprize the World,
Born to surprize the World, and teach the Great,
The slippery Danger of exalted State;
Victorious _Marlborough_, Victorious _Marlborough_, to Battle flies,
Arm'd, Arm'd with new Lightning from bright _Anna's_ Eyes:
Wonders, Wonders like these no former Age has seen,
The Subjects Heroes, the Subjects Heroes, and a Saint the Queen.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ J. ISUM.

[Music]

In vain, in vain, in vain, in vain, in vain,
In vain the God I ask,
He'll ne'er remove the Dart;
And still I love the pretty, pretty Boy,
Altho', altho' he wound my Heart:
Henceforth I'll be contented then,
No more will I desire;
No, no, no more, no, no, no more will I desire,
To slight her whom I love so much,
That but creates the Fire:
Well might I expect the Fate,
As well as any other;
Since he ne'er spares the Gods themselves,
Nor does he spare his Mother.

_An Amorous_ SONG. _To the Tune of_, The bonny Christ-Church Bells.

[Music]

See how fair and fine she lies,
Upon her Bridal Bed;
No Lady at the Court,
So fit for the Sport,
Oh she look'd so curiously White and Red:
After the first and second time,
The weary Bridegroom slacks his Pace;
But Oh! she cries, come, come my Joy,
And cling thy Cheek close to my Face:
Tinkle, tinkle, goes the Bell under the Bed,
Whilst Time and Touch they keep;
Then with a Kiss,
They end their Bliss,
And so fall fast asleep.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ J. ISUM.

[Music]

_Corinna_ if my Fate's to love you,
_Corinna_ if my Fate's to love you,
Wh