Well hast thou spoke the noble _Silvio’s_ Praise, For I have often heard his charming lays; Oft has he blest the Shades with strains Divine, Took many a _Virgins_ heart, and Ravish’d mine. Long may he sing in every Field and Grove, And teach the Swains to Pipe, the _Maids_ to Love. _Amarillis._ _Daphnis_, and _Colin_ Pipe not half so well, E’en _Dions_ mighty self he does excell; As the last Lover of the _Muses_, blest, The last and young in Love are always best; And _She_ her darling Lover does requite With all the softest Arts of Noblest _Wit_. _Thirsis._ Oh may he dedicate his Youth to her! Thus let ‘em live, and love upon the square, But see _Alexis_ homeward leads his Flock, And brouzing Goats descend from yonder Rock; The Sun is hasting on to _Thetis_ Bed, See his faint Beams have streak’d the Sky with Red. Let’s home e’er night approach, and all the way You shall of _Silvio_ sing, while I will play. GILDON’S MISCELLANY, 1692. VENUS _and_ CUPID. _Venus._ _Cupid_, my darling _Cupid_, and my Joy, Thy Mother _Venus_ calls, come away, come away. _Cupid._ Alas! I cannot, I am at Play. _Venus._ Fond Boy, I do command thee, haste; Thy precious Hours no longer waste: In Groves and Cottages you make abode, Too mean a Condescention for a God! On barren Mountains idly play, For shame thou Wanton, come away, come away! All useless lies thy Bow and Darts, That should be wounding heedless Hearts: The Swain that guards his Dove, Alas! no Leisure has for Love: His Flocks and Heards are all his Joy, Then leave the Shades and come away, come away. _Cupid._ Alas! what would you have me do? Command and I’ll Obedience shew. _Venus._ Hye then to Cities and to Court, Where all the Young and Fair resort; There try thy Power, let fly thy Darts, And bring me in some noble Hearts, Worthy to be by thee undone, For here’s no Glory to be won. _Cupid._ Mistaken Queen, look down and see, } What Trophies are prepar’d for thee, } What glorious Slaves are destin’d me. } _Venus._ Now, by my self, a Noble Throng; How Fair the Nymphs, the Swains how Young! No wonder if my little Loves Delight and play in Shades and Groves. _Cupid._ Then, Mother, here I’ll bend my Bow, And bring you wounded Hearts enough. _Venus._ My pretty Charming Wanton, do. _Chorus._