BElinda! why do you distrust,
So faithful and so kind a Heart:
Which cannot prove to you unjust,
But must it self endure the smart:
No, no, no, no the wandring Stars,
Shall sooner cease their Motion;
And Nature reconcile the Jars,
’Twixt Boreas and the Ocean:
The fixed Poles shall seem to move,
And ramble from their Places;
E’er I’ll from fair Belinda rove,
Or slight her charming Graces.
A SONG.
Set by Mr. William Turner.
[[Listen]]
