 | Poems, Songs and Love-Verses |  |
68
A Deserted Lover.
Ah, lovely Fair! can you so cruel be,To scorn my Vows, yet never pity me?
Can you prove false, who once I did adore?
Pity a Youth that never lov'd before.
How wav'ring like the Wind? What subtle dart
Had you at first to penetrate my Heart,
Obdure as Steel, which ne're no torture found,
Or ever knew for to receive a Wound;
Till in your Eyes, the little twinkling Boy
Taught me at first how to begin to toy?
He taught me Love, whose active Fire first grew,
And more increast, the more I look'd on you:
Yet you more Cruel than the Tygers Rage,
Relying on your Beauty, Wealth and Age,
Disdain what you before did seem to prize,
And blast my Lawrel with your lightning Eyes.
Thus to the World your Cruelty is known,
And after Ages shall repeat my moan.
Perfidious Maid, your hatred makes me bow,
And Curse the rashness of my idle Vow.
And since it is alone for you I dye,
'Twill change your Honour into Infamy.
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