'Tis cruel to prolong a pain; An hundred thousand oaths your fears Filled with grief for what is past, Love does timid fouls defpife, Who lose themselves for toys, And escapes for those devise Who tafte his utmost joys. Love should like the year be crown'd Hope should in the spring abound, Kind fears, and jealousy. In the fummer, flowers fhould rise, His fpring doth else but mock our eyes, SONG. THANKS, fair Urania, to your fcorn, In lofing me, proud nymph, you lofe My ranging love did never find I, unawares, my freedom gave, Love is a burthen, which two hearts, I'm not of those who court their pain, My hope in love does ne'er expire, But it extinguishes defire. Nor yet of thofe, who ill received, And, where their love could not prevail, Whoe'er would make his victor less Muft his own weak defence confefs; And, while her power he does defame, He poorly doubles his own shame. Even that malice does betray, He's ftill in torment, whom the rage In love, indiff'rence is the fure SONG. HEARS not my Phillis, how the birds Phillis, without frown or smile, Sat and knotted all the while. The god of love, in thy bright eyes, Doth like a tyrant reign; But in thy heart, a child he lies, Without his dart or flame. And yet in raging love; Might well deferve one word at laft, My paffion should approve. Phillis, &c. Must then your faithful swain expire, And not one look obtain ; Which he, to footh his fond defire, Might pleasingly explain? Phillis, without frown or fmile, Sat and knotted all the while. SONG. PHILLIS is my only joy, Faithlefs as the winds or feas; |