CEase lovely Strephon, cease to charm;
Useless, alas! is all this Art;
It’s needless you should strongly arm,
To take a too, too willing Heart:
I hid my weakness all I could,
And chid my pratling tell-tale Eyes,
For fear the easie Conquest should
Take from the value of the Prize.
But oh! th’ unruly Passion grew
So fast, it could not be conceal’d,
And soon, alas! I found to you
I must without Conditions yield,
Tho’ you have thus surpriz’d my Heart,
Yet use it kindly, for you know,
It’s not a gallant Victor’s part
To insult o’er a vanquish’d Foe.
A SONG.
Set by Mr. Damasene.
[[Listen]]
YOU happy Youths, whose Hearts are free
From Love’s Imperial Chain,
Henceforth be warn’d and taught by me,
And taught by me to avoid inchanting Pain,
Fatal the Wolves to trembling Flocks,
Sharp Winds to Blossoms prove:
To careless Seamen, hidden Rocks;
To human quiet Love.
Fly the Fair-Sex, if Bliss you prize,
The Snake’s beneath the Flow’r:
Whoever gaz’d on Beauties Eyes,
That tasted Quiet more?
The Kind with restless Jealousie,
The Cruel fill with Care;
With baser Falshood those betray,
These kill us with Despair.
