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The Bracelet.
Now
Love be prais'd! that cruel Fair,
Who my poor Heart restrains
Under so many Chains,
Hath weav'd a new one for it of her Hair.
Who my poor Heart restrains
Under so many Chains,
Hath weav'd a new one for it of her Hair.
These threads of Amber us'd to play
With every courtly wind,
And never were confin'd,
But in a thousand Curls allow'd to stray.
With every courtly wind,
And never were confin'd,
But in a thousand Curls allow'd to stray.
Cruel each part of her is grown,
Nor lesse unkinde then She
These fetters are to Me,
Which to restrain my Freedome, loose their own.
Nor lesse unkinde then She
These fetters are to Me,
Which to restrain my Freedome, loose their own.
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