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(196) Page 184 - Pastora's beauties when unblown
1 84 Songs Compleat,
PAsto?'a y s Beauties when unblown,
E'er yet the tender Budd did cleave,
To my more early Love were known,
Their fatal Power I did perceive :
How often in the dead of Night,
When all the World lay hush'd in Sleep :
Have I thought this my chief Delight,
To sigh for you, for you to weep.
Upon my Heart, whose Leaves of white,
No Letter yet did ever stain :
Fate (whom none can controul) did write.
The Fair Pastora here must Reign :
Her Eyes, those darling Suns shall prove
Thy Love to be of noblest Race ;
Which took its Flight so far above,
All Humane things on her to gaze.
How can you then a Love despise,
A Love that was infus'd by you ;
You gave Breath to its infant Sighs,
And all its Griefs that did ensue :
The Pow'r you have to wound I feel,
How long shall I of that complain ;
Now shew the Power you have to heal,
And take away the tott'ring Pain.
A SONG,
glap^e^ii
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g fflsyt TO ^g

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