 | The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last |  |
SCENE III.
SYLVIA.RECITATIVE.
O, Tyrant Love! how partial is thy Reign!
Why must I still admire the perjur'd Swain
Ah! let thy Force, alike, to him be known,
Inform his Heart, or send me back my Own.
AIR.
Thou bubbling Brook, didst thou not hear,
My faithless Shepherd to me say,
When I am false, to thee, my Dear,
That gurgling Rill shall cease to play?
Your murm'ring Course you still pursue,
But Colin is, alas! untrue.
My faithless Shepherd to me say,
When I am false, to thee, my Dear,
That gurgling Rill shall cease to play?
Your murm'ring Course you still pursue,
But Colin is, alas! untrue.
The wing'd Musicians of the Air,
Cry'd he, shall all their Notes suspend;
And Spring forget the rising Year,
Before my Constancy shall end.
The Birds their tuneful Songs proclaim,
And all, but Colin, is the same.
Cry'd he, shall all their Notes suspend;
And Spring forget the rising Year,
Before my Constancy shall end.
The Birds their tuneful Songs proclaim,
And all, but Colin, is the same.
Why is our Sex so tender fram'd?
Why model'd on so frail a Plan?
How vain the Art by Woman claim'd,
Oppos'd to half the Wiles of Man!
In what we most adore and prize;
In Beauty, lurking Ruin lies.
Why model'd on so frail a Plan?
How vain the Art by Woman claim'd,
Oppos'd to half the Wiles of Man!
In what we most adore and prize;
In Beauty, lurking Ruin lies.
[Exit.]
| The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last | |