The Constant Lover's Lamentation;
OR,
Faithful Hephestions Love to False Rosilia:
Being a New Song much in Request at Court: To a New Tune.
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I Love you more and more each Day,
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fairest of Earthly Creatures;
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In Temples I forget to Pray,
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by gazing on your features:
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When thy fair Face I do behold,
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I stand in Admiration;
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Oh! pitty then, I you implore,
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I you implore,
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or you have no compassion.
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Heaven gave to Man, in Paradise,
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Blessings that were not common;
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But all were triffles to the bliss
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of Soul-delighting Woman:
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I Love, what e're must be my doom,
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'tis thee I'm still persuing;
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Then love me, or I am undone,
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I am undone,
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Oh! love or else I'm Ruin'd.
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My fair Rosilia be so kind,
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to ease me of this passion;
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You never one more true shall find
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in all this Glorious Nation;
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For you alone I will adore,
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oh! bee not then so cruel,
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But kind to me, I beg once more,
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I beg once more,
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my fair and lovely jewell.
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When first I did you beauty see,
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I trembled to come near ye;
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I took ye for some Deity,
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and so did greatly fear ye:
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Then at your feet I strait did fall,
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on purpose to adore you;
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But when I found you were Mortall,
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You were Mortall,
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for Love I did implore you.
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I sigh'd in torment for a while,
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till I my passion told ye;
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But you soon after made me smile,
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when that you did behold me;
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You said you lik'd your Lover well,
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and vow'd you'd never leave me;
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And pritty tales to me did tell,
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to me did tell,
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on purpose to deceive me.
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You said no man should win your heart,
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from me your dear Hephestion;
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And that from me you'd never part,
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made many a protestation;
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A thousand times you swore, and said,
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that you would never leave me;
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But now I find, you cruel maid,
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You cruel Maid,
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that you did but deceive me.
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You gave your heart away from me,
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to one that do's not Love you;
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But blame ye for your Curelty,
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and often do's Reprove you:
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Return Rosilia, yet return,
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and I'll with joy Receive ye,
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For if you longer stay, I Mourn,
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To Death I Mourn,
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Return then, and Repreive me.
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But if that you no mercy have,
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but thus will still torment me;
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When your Disdain has kill'd your Slave,
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too late you may Repent ye:
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Perhaps when you have hear'd I'm dead,
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too late you'l call upon me,
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And for my sake some Tears will shed,
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some Tears will shed,
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to think you have undone me.
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