Song X., p.259.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

AH! bright Bellinda, hither fly, 

And such a light discover, 

As may the absent sun supply, 

And chear the drooping lover. 


Arise, my day, with speed arise, 

And all my sorrows banish: 

Before the sun of thy bright eyes, 

All gloomy terrors vanish. 


No longer let me sigh in vain, 

And curse the hoarded treasure: 

Why should you love to give us pain, 

When you were made for pleasure? 


The petty powers of hell destroy; 

To save’s the pride of heaven: 

To you the first, if you prove coy; 

If kind, the last is given. 


The choice then sure’s not hard to make, 

Betwixt a good and evil: 

Which title had you rather take, 

My Goddess, or, my devil

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