Page:Irish widow.pdf/5



Rom clime to clime my heart does rove,

Smell ev'ry ſweet, yet dares not love:

Smell ev'ry ſweet, &c.

With wanton beauty often ſir'd,

But ah! how vain whene'er admir'd,

But ah! how vain, &c.

I ſing and toy with every art,

Invade the tender virgins heart; Invade, &c.

In gentle murmurs tell my pain,

But tears are idle, vows are vain. But, &c.

Ye Gods am I the man alone

Of love and beauty doom'd to ſcorn, &c.

Muſt fordid gold the mind controul,

Enſlave the will and bribe the ſoul? &c.

With ſtricteſt ſeorn I'll brave the ſex,

And ne'er with love my heart perplex, &c.

'Till Cupid ſends ſome generous fair,

To eaſe my grief and end my care. &c.

As thus the penſive Sylvan ſtood,

And ſighing view'd the reſſuent flood, &c.

The Tritons gaz'd to hear him mourn,

And thus reply'd from vocal horn: &c.

Forbear dear youth, the plaintive ſong,

Nor blindly cenſure fate with wrong, &c.

'Tis fickle Strephon coldly flies,

And conſtant Amarillis dies. &c.