The Charming ECCHO. The Shepherdess sat all alone, Close by the River-side; Whilst her poor Dear with making moan, For Love had almost Dy'd. To the Tune of, Oh love with unconfined Wings ; Or, Young Pheon .
|
A S I was walking all alone,
|
one evening fair and clear.
|
And to my self did make my moan,
|
when thinking on my dear:
|
At last an Eccho mocked me,
|
as I along did go,
|
And cry'd will she be kind to me?
|
The Eccho cry'd no, no.
|
Ah! fairest Nymph, said I, and bid
|
the babling Eccho cease,
|
O let me of my woe be rid,
|
that comforts may increase:
|
Your cruelty is death indeed,
|
if once more you deny,
|
Tell me indeed, now must I bleed,
|
The Eccho cry'd I, I.
|
My Chains I do not grudge, since you
|
did put my Fetters on,
|
Must I whose love is pure and true,
|
be by my love undone?
|
I'le drag them all the world about,
|
like I cars I will flye,
|
Tell me, wilt thee, so cruel be?
|
The Eccho cry'd I , I .
|
Then farewel cruel Nymph, farewel,
|
for evermore adieu,
|
I that all others do excell,
|
must perish now by you:
|
If through the world a Pilgrimage,
|
I for thy sake should go,
|
Dear wouldst thou then love me agen?
|
the Eccho cry'd no, no.
|
H Ow dearly have I loved thee,
|
how constant have I been,
|
To sleep without I dream of thee,
|
I reckoned was no Sin:
|
But yet your cruel last command,
|
i'le instantly pursue,
|
And then again, to raise my pain,
|
The Eccho cry'd do, do.
|
And ever as I walkt I wept,
|
for thee I daily pray'd,
|
And ever in my thoughts I kept,
|
that beauteous lovely Maid:
|
Why should I not injoy my dear,
|
whom I have loved so;
|
But presently with short reply,
|
the Eccho cry'd no, no.
|
And from the other side o'th Brook,
|
just by a spreading Oak,
|
Not fearing I should be mistook,
|
I guest the Eccho spoke:
|
As silent as the sable night,
|
which me surprized so,
|
I sigh'd again, O ease my pain,
|
the Eccho cry'd no, no.
|
A Nymph that sat beneath the shade,
|
and heard what I did speak,
|
Oh Shepherd, then, aloud she cry'd,
|
sighs seldom hearts do break:
|
Your Shepherdess is kind enough,
|
if you can think her so,
|
Then cure said I, my mallady,
|
the E ccho cry'd no, no.
|
Go faithless Shepherd once again,
|
I now do set you free,
|
Deliver but to me my Chain,
|
i'le grant your Liberty:
|
With that she slew her self, and then,
|
the tears dropt from mine eye,
|
Oh must I be, undone by thee?
|
the Eccho cry'd I, I.
|
I knew that lovely noise, and yet,
|
dare scarce upon her look,
|
I to the Rivers brink did get,
|
and straight jumpt o're the Brook:
|
Am I that cruel Nymph, she said,
|
that caus'd your Mallady?
|
Like one half dead, I answered,
|
with aching heart, I, I.
|
I clos'd her then within my arms,
|
imbracing her withal,
|
Till from her eye the Christal Charms
|
upon my Cheek did fall:
|
Oh cruel eyes, said she, that do
|
betray your Mistris so,
|
And then said I, still must I dye?
|
she kissing, cry'd no, no.
|
|
FINIS
|
|
|
|