[[Listen]]
IN vain, in vain, in vain, in vain, in vain,
In vain the God I ask,
He’ll ne’er remove the Dart;
And still I love the pretty, pretty Boy,
Altho’, altho’ he wound my Heart:
Henceforth I’ll be contented then,
No more will I desire;
No, no, no more, no, no, no more will I desire,
To slight her whom I love so much,
That but creates the Fire:
Well might I expect the Fate,
As well as any other;
Since he ne’er spares the Gods themselves,
Nor does he spare his Mother.
An Amorous Song. To the Tune of, The
bonny Christ-Church Bells.
[[Listen]]
