 | A Collection of Original Poems |  |
78
A SONG.
Send me back my eyes, false maid;
Too, too long, with thee they've stray'd;
Yet they've learn'd from thine, I fear,
To drop dissimulation's tear;
Should you arm them with this ill,
I disclaim them; keep them still.
Too, too long, with thee they've stray'd;
Yet they've learn'd from thine, I fear,
To drop dissimulation's tear;
Should you arm them with this ill,
I disclaim them; keep them still.
Send me back my wander'd heart,
Free from fraud, and void of art;
Yet, I fear, 'tis taught by thee
To jest at lover's perjury:
Then the traitor I resign;
Keep it, 'tis no longer mine.
Free from fraud, and void of art;
Yet, I fear, 'tis taught by thee
To jest at lover's perjury:
Then the traitor I resign;
Keep it, 'tis no longer mine.
Yet, return them, quick, I say;
For they shall no longer stray;
One shall leap, the other smile,
When falsehood shall thy love beguile;
When you'll weep the broken vow
Of some one false, as thou art now.
For they shall no longer stray;
79
When falsehood shall thy love beguile;
When you'll weep the broken vow
Of some one false, as thou art now.
Now I see the lifted dart,
See it wound thy destin'd heart;
How th' inflicted suff'rings please;
Thy anguish gives my bosom ease:
Of her pains increase the store,
Cupid, she deserves much more.
See it wound thy destin'd heart;
How th' inflicted suff'rings please;
Thy anguish gives my bosom ease:
Of her pains increase the store,
Cupid, she deserves much more.
| A Collection of Original Poems | |