THAT scornful Sylvia's Chains I wear,
The Groves and Streams can tell;
Those blasted with my Sighs appear,
These with my Tears my Tears, o're swell.
But Sighs and Tears bring no redress,
And Love that sees, that sees me grieve;
Conspires with Sylvia to oppress,
The Heart he should relieve.
The God that should reward my Pain,