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EBBA 22082

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
T:THE HAPPY LOVERS, OR, Caelia won by Aminta's Loyalty. A New SONG in great Request at Court.
This maybe Printed, R.P.

W[h]y are my Eyes still Flow-ing? Why does my heart thus trembling move?
Why do I sigh, when go-ing? To see the Darling Saint I Love:
Ah! she's my Heaven, and in her Eyes, The Dei-ty, There is no Life
Like what she can give, Nor any Death like taking my leave.

I.
Tell me no more of Glo-ry,
to Courts Ambition I've resign'd,
But tell a long long Sto-ry,
of Celia's shape her face and mind:
Speak too of Raptures that will Life destroy,
to En-joy,
Had I a Diadem Scepter and Ball,
for that dear minute I'd part with them all.

II.
Why am I not injoy-ing
my self, delighting in thy Arms?
My painful Love destroy-ing,
with killing pleasures from thy Charms:
Come, come dear Celia, now let Storms be gone,
and o-ver-blown;
There's no delight like thy transporting Love,
No joy below, what e're there's above.

IV.
Why does my heart thus grieve-me,
as I lye panting on my Bed?
Why does my hopes deceive-me,
when cruel Fate[s] pronounce me dead?
Speak, speak, dear Saint, and by those conq'ring eyes
that- -surprize:
Give, give me favour in thy fight again,
Or kill me quite to ea[s]e my pain.

V.
Her ANSWER.
HOw can I seek to co-ver
a flaming heart o'rewhelm'd with grief?
See, see a Constant Lo-ver,
thus fainting, plead for some relief!
No, no, Aminta, cease now to implore
sigh-no more:
Had I ten thousand hearts in my Breast,
I'd part with all to give my Love rest.

VI.
Why does Aminta sigh-ing,
think I will coyly Love deface?
But can there be deny-ing,
to such a Person, such a Grace?
Ah! such becoming boldness too is found,
to-be Crown'd,
That no fair Nymph that lives upon the plain,
Can have a heart to give my Dear pain.

VII.
Amint. Who can express the joy-ing,
that my poor heart doth leaping find?
Fly hence all heart-annoy-ing,
and fatal grief, for Celia's kind:
Come then dear Celia, let us now enjoy,
Cel. Ay, dear-est Ay:
While we have Breath let Mortals wonder this,
Envy they may, but not spoil our Bliss.


Printed for J. Blare at the looking-glass on London-Bridge, 1689.

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