HO' you make no return to my Passion, TH 'Tis in Love but an odd Reputation, When faintly repuls'd to give o'er : When you talk of your duty, I gaze at your Beauty; Nor mind the dull Maxim at all, Let it reign in Cheapside, With the Citizens Bride: It will ne'er be receiv'd, it will ne'er, ne'er, it will ne'er be receiv'd at White-hall. What Apochryphal Tales are you told, Shou'd one such a Treasure engross; He who knows not the Joys, That attend such a choice, Shou'd resign to another that does. The W HEN Wit and Beauty meet in one, Those Potent, wondrous Potent charms, Astrea saw the Shepherds bleed, Unmov'd she hear'd their Oaten Reed, He pleas'd her Eyes and charm'd her Ear, But he as tho' design'd by Fate, Which others suffer'd from her hate, Lest you shou'd joyn for such disdain, In Д A SONG, Sung at the THEATRE-ROYAL, in the Play call'd ALPHONSO King of NAPLES. Set by Mr. EAGLES. f bo WHEN L THEN Sylvia was kind, and Love play'd in her WHEREyes, We thought it no Morning till Sylvia did rise; But now, oh how little her Glories do move, Love heightens our Joys, he's the ease of our Care, 'Tis kindness, my Sylvia, 'tis kindness alone, The |