Strange Apparition:
OR,
The second Meeting of two self-murthering Lovers.
Phillis and Phillander.
Mistaken Phillis Killd her self,
thinking Philander Slain;
Philander quickly followed her,
and now theyr met again.
To the Tune of, Oh Cruel bloody Fate.
|
Sitting beneath the Shade,
|
of the Mirtle blooming Tree,
|
My self to Recreate,
|
a Noise surprized me:
|
Such pleasant Musick I did hear,
|
the world were strangers too,
|
with Notes so sweet,
|
I ner could meet,
|
no mortal ever knew.
|
I harkened to his Charms,
|
and gave attentive ear,
|
I then could fear no harm,
|
each minute cost a tear
|
From my poor eyes, & then such groans
|
as ecchod through the Air,
|
with sighs so sad,
|
said she Im glad,
|
far worse then with Dispair.
|
Ah my Philander dear,
|
I never more shall see,
|
What, have I left thee here:
|
who fled from hence for thee?
|
& through the shades I went to search
|
for thee my hearts Delight,
|
but now I fear,
|
I left thee here,
|
Im come for thother sight.
|
The world ile compass quite,
|
Philander for to find,
|
Since I have took this flight,
|
to ease my troubled mind:
|
Ile search each corner of the World,
|
and wander through the Air,
|
since it is so,
|
hes not below,
|
ile seek to find him there.
|
My Spirit cannot rest,
|
til him again I find,
|
He thinks I dye in jest,
|
else would not be unkind:
|
But had he seen my desperate wound,
|
made with a willing stroak,
|
hed then confess
|
in bitterness,
|
dispair did it provoke.
|
Like a true lover then,
|
he would have followed me,
|
And overtook agen,
|
my Spirit that did flee:
|
But since he is not yet come there,
|
where I did him expect,
|
I cannot stay,
|
but must away
|
you powers my course derect.
|
Just as she fled away,
|
this sound I then did hear,
|
My lovely phillis stay,
|
philanders drawing near:
|
The Musick then began agen,
|
so pleasant to my ear,
|
I stood amazd,
|
about me gazd,
|
and saw their meeting there.
|
And in each Lovers brest,
|
I did perceive a Wound,
|
My Soul was then opprest,
|
and I was like to swound:
|
She opens then her bloody arms,
|
and him she caught between,
|
I chid mine eyes,
|
for telling Lyes,
|
and thought it was a dream.
|
Philander art thou come?
|
did Phillis Spirit say,
|
Now to Elizium,
|
with joy lets haste away,
|
Ah Phillis, twas thy great mistake,
|
causd thee to pierce thy brest,
|
which when I found,
|
mine I did wound,
|
with sorrow then opprest.
|
But since were met again,
|
we never more shall part,
|
To grieve now is in vain,
|
were now beyond all smart:
|
In folded arms they fled away,
|
with such a Harmony,
|
no mortal ere,
|
did ever hear,
|
but I that was thereby.
|
They posted to the shade,
|
which Lovers entertain,
|
These joys are great, they said,
|
that we should meet again:
|
Were we to live on earth again,
|
such joys we could not find,
|
as the sweet shade,
|
For Lovers made,
|
who never provd unkind.
|
|
|
|
|
|