Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Collection of songs

13* A C0LUeTWN
Whilft feeds of far more precious pre
Are ripen'd in mj breaft,
My breaft, the forge of happier love.
Where my Luanda lies ;
And the rich ftock does fo improve,
As me her art employs ;
That ev'ry fmiie and touch (he gives.,
Turns, all to golden joys.
Since then we can fuch treafures, raife.
Let's no expenfe refufe ;
In love let's lay out all our days,
How can we e'er be poor,
When ev'ry bleffing that we ufe>
Begets a thpufand more ? ^-.. .
SEek not to know what muft not be reyeal'd i
Joys only flow, where fate is moft conceal'd ;
Too bufy man would find his forrows more,
If future fortunes he mould know before :
Jor by that knowledge of- his deftiny,
He would not live at all, but always die.
Inquire not then who mall from bonds be freed,.
Who 'tis ihall wear a crown, or who fhall bleed \
All mult fubmit to their appointed doom,
Fate and misfortune will too quickly come ;
|^et me no more with powerful charms be preif,
I am forbid by fate to tell the reft.
N
Estor, who did to thrice man's age attain -,
By vaft experience fpund; : - : : B : - _: :