Nature without art :: :: University of Virginia Library

SONG XXIII. The RESOLUTION.

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Tune, Woe's my Heart that we should sunder.

Since Fortune hath, at such a Rate,
Run cross unto my Fancy freely,
I'll say no more, but curse my Fate,
And blame myself I went so slowly,
To court the Love of my dear Lass,
Which I have lost so soon's I found her;
But now, with Grief, my Time I'll pass,
Since I with her, alas! must sunder.

A Rival hath usurp'd my Throne,
And left me in the Wilds to wander;
Which makes me sigh, and sore to moan,
Since I, alas! with her must sunder:
Yet, had the Gods but prov'd so kind
To me, as made that charming Lassy
Yield her Affection, then my Mind
Had still disdain'd the Maids that's saucy.

But, since my Fancy it is crost,
I'll seek some Lass that will be kinder;
Tho' she prov'd coy, I'm not lost;
I'll range the Earth until I find her.
I will invoke the God of Love,
And send him to his Mother Venus;
And she'll consult the Gods above,
To fix old Hymen's Laws between us.

Then we'll have Joy as well as they;
So farewel to my wonted Lover:
My ain Lass' Love will constant stay;
No mortal Flesh will ever move her.
That State which loves Usurpers best,
Hard Bondage they are often under;
Yet I still wish the Lassy blest,
Tho' she and I for ay must sunder.