Amintors Lamentation for Celeas Unkindness.
Both Sexes from this Song may learn,
Of what they should beware:
How in Extreams they may discern,
Unkindness and Despair.
To a new Tune.
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SINCE Celias my Foe,
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To the Desarts Ill go,
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Where some River,
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for ever,
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shall eccho my Wo!
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The Trees will appear,
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More relenting than her,
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In the Morning
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adorning
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each Leaf with a Tear.
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When I made my sad Moan
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To the Rocks all alone,
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From each Hollow
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will follow
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some pitiful Groan
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But with silent Disdain,
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She requites all my Pain:
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To my Mourning,
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returning
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no Answer again.
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O why was I born,
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To Fate so forlorn?
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To inherit
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no Merit,
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But Anguish and Scorn.
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Yet my Affection is such,
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As no Blemish can touch
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Yet Im slighted
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and spighted,
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for loving too much.
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Perhaps could I prove,
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More unjust to my Love,
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I might find her
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yet kinder,
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and Pity might move:
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But Ill chuse to obey;
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Tho I die by the Way:
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Yet tis better
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than get her,
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by going astray.
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Then why should you fly
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My fair Celia? O why?
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When to please ye,
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tis easie,
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If for Amintor to die
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Your Lover youd shun,
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You no Danger shall run;
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Him you banish,
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will vanish,
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and from you begone.
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Stay Celia unkind,
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Will you leave me behind?
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Let me enter,
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and venture,
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My self with the Wind.
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Ah! from me will ye part,
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Who so loves your Desert?
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Either tarry,
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or carry
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Your Slave with his Heart.
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Were you but secure,
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Id your Absence endure,
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Were all Danger,
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a Stranger,
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to a Virgin so pure:
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But some insolent Wave,
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May your Merit out-brave,
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Both regardless,
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and careless,
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of me your poor Slave.
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Yet Storm shall not dare,
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To assault one so fair,
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To attend you,
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Ill send you,
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Sighs softer than Air.
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The Nymphs of the deep,
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My dear Celia shall keep,
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On a Pillow,
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each Billow,
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shall lull you asleep,
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The Seas they shall dance,
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And Winds shall advance,
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With your Gally,
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to dally,
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And guide you to France.
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While I from the Shoar,
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My fair Idol adore;
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till that Neptune
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your Captain,
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Hath wasted you oer.
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Then Celea adieu,
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When I cease to pursue,
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Youl discover
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no Lover,
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Was ever so true.
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Your sad Shepherd flies,
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From those dear cruel Eyes
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Which now seeing,
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his being,
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decays and he dies.
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Yet tis better to run,
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To the Fates we cant shun;
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Than for ever,
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tendeavour,
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what cannot be won:
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What is this I have done,
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That Amintor alone
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Is thus treated,
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and hated,
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for loving but one?
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And thus I complain,
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Tho tis all in Vain;
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Yet the Trouble
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is double,
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to stifle my Pain:
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The Sea for the Shoar,
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I as well might implore,
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Theyre as moving,
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and Loving,
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as her I adore.
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Then since tis the Fate,
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Of any wretched State
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Without Pity,
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tis fit I,
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submit to her Hate.
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For as Winter comes on,
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When Apollo is gone,
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So declining,
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and Pining,
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she leaves me alone.
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Tis better than so,
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Tho you force me to go,
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You abuse me,
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to accuse me,
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of being your Foe,
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If well understood,
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twill be all for your good;
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Im the kinder,
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to hinder
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the Heat of your Blood.
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You swore youd be true
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But I well enough knew
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Youd deceive me,
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and leave me,
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as now I must you.
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For those that are Lewd,
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And inclind to be rude,
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Tis the Fashion,
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in Passion,
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to Swear and Delude.
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Id slaken your Fire,
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Till your Flame did expire;
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If with Honour
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the Donor
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could grant your Desire:
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But much were I to blame,
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To extinguish your Flame.
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By exposing,
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and loosing,
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my Virtue and Fame.
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Then take it not ill,
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That I do not fulfil
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Your requesting;
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protesting,
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I honour you still,
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But more Safety I find,
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In the Waves of the Wind,
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To desert you,
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with Virtue,
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than staying behind.
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Youll Pardon my Lord
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That I cannot afford,
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Your demanding,
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by Landing,
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to fetch you abroad.
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Since I must not comply,
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You had better to try,
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If another
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will smother,
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the Love I deny.
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For Thousands there are,
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That are ten Times as Fair
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Town or City
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will fit ye
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with Feature and Air.
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Such as make new Delights
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In their amorous Sights,
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Who in Courting,
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and sporting,
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do wear out the Night.
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What Presents you make,
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Theyle be certain to take:
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When youre sleepy.
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theyll keep ye,
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with Pleasure awake,
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But for me silly Girl,
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Neither Jewels nor Pearl,
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Can ever awe me,
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or draw me
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to Bed with an Earl,
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Then good Sir away,
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Tis the best of your Play,
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To deal plainly,
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you vainly
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For I find greater Ease
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In appeasing the Seas,
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Than asswaging
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the Raging,
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of Cupids Disease.
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Then since tis in Vain,
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And more to complain;
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Take your Pleasure,
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at Leasure,
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to talk of your Pain;
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To the Wave of the Flood
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Or the Trees of the Wood,
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Tell your Story,
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and Glory,
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in being so good.
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In the Notes of your Song,
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As you sing em along,
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Let your Celia
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in Ela,
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be blamd for the Wrong,
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But the Kingdom shall know
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Whether justly or no;
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Since Amintor
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in Winter
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compelld me to go.
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And yet Ill away,
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For a Year and a Day;
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Neither Reason,
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nor Season,
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shall force me to stay.
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Tho the Waves in their Pride,
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Seem the Rocks to divide;
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By Intreaties,
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to Thetis
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I safely shall ride.
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Then since we must Part,
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You may take back your Heart
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Tis a Present
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unpleasant,
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and favours of Art:
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I like not the Charm,
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For I find there is harm,
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If we handle,
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and dandle,
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a Snake till hes warm,
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Then Amintor farewel,
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When the Story you tell,
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You may blame me,
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and shame me,
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and all will be well,
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Yet in Spight of your Skill,
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Tho poor Celea you kill,
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You could never
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deceive her,
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to yield to your Will.
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