A Song. Set by Mr. Fishburn.
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THO’ Fortune and Love may be Deities still,
To those they Oblige by their Pow’r;
For my Part, they ever have us’d me so ill,
They cannot expect I’ll adore:
Hereafter a Temple to Friendship I’ll raise,
And dedicate there all the rest of my Days,
To the Goddess accepted my Vows,
To the Goddess accepted my Vows.
Thou perfectest Image of all things Divine,
Bright Center of endless Desires,
May the Glory be yours, and the Services mine,
When I light at your Altars the Fires.
I offer a Heart has Devotion so pure,
It would for your Service all Torments endure,
Might you but have all things you wish,
Might you, &c.
But yet the Goddess of Fools to despise,
I find I’m too much in her Power;
She makes me go where ’tis in vain to be wise,
In absence of her I adore:
If Love then undoes me before I get back,
I still with resignment receive the Attack,
Or languish away in Despair,
Or languish, &c.
