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May this tragedy a warning be,
to children while they live,
That they may love their parents dear,
their bleſſings to receive.
MY GODDESS or, MY DEVIL.
AH! bright Belinda, hither fly,
and ſuch a light diſcover,
As may the abſent ſun ſupply,
and cheer 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?
