II.
Methought I ask'd him why he cry'd,
My Pity led me on:
All sighing the sad Boy reply'd,
Alas I am undone!
As I beneath yon Myrtles lay,
Down by Diana's Springs,
Amyntas stole my Bow away,
And Pinion'd both my Wings.
III.
Alas! cry'd I, 'twas then thy Darts
Wherewith he wounded me:
Thou Mighty Deity of Hearts,
He stole his Pow'r from thee.
Revenge thee, if a God thou be,
Upon the Amorous Swain;
I'll set thy Wings at Liberty,
And thou shalt fly again.
IV.
And for this Service on my Part,
All I implore of thee,
Is, That thou't wound Amyntas Heart,
And make him die for me.
His Silken Fetters I Unty'd,
And the gay Wings display'd;
Which gently fann'd, he mounts and cry'd,
Farewel fond easy Maid.
V.