 | Letters and poems |  |
Upon a Favour offer'd.
Cælia
, too late you wou'd repent
The off'ring all your store;
Is now but like a Pardon sent
To one that's dead before.
The off'ring all your store;
Is now but like a Pardon sent
To one that's dead before.
While at the first you cruel prov'd,
And grant the Bliss too late;
You hinder'd me of one I lov'd,
To give me one I hate.
And grant the Bliss too late;
You hinder'd me of one I lov'd,
To give me one I hate.
I thought you innocent, as fair,
When first my court I made;
But when your Falshoods plain appear,
My Love no longer stay'd.
When first my court I made;
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My Love no longer stay'd.
Your Bounty of those Favours shown,
Whose Worth you first deface;
Is melting valu'd Medals down,
And giving us the Brass.
Whose Worth you first deface;
Is melting valu'd Medals down,
And giving us the Brass.
Oh, since the thing we beg's a Toy,
That's priz'd by Love alone,
Why cannot Women grant the Joy,
Before our Love is gone?
That's priz'd by Love alone,
Why cannot Women grant the Joy,
Before our Love is gone?
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