A NEW SONG
To the Tune of, Peggie I must love thee.
The Words, by Mr. RAMONDON, Senior.
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I
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ADIEU, my Celia, Oh adieu!
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Adieu my only Treasure!
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I lost all Joy in losing you,
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Both Quiet, Hope and Pleasure.
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Like Freedom you my Heart possest,
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Thou, only Charm, that ties it:
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Thus we ne'er know, till void of Rest,
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How much we ought to prize it.
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II.
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Ye Rural Deities prepare
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To entertain my Charmer.
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Ye blooming Buds perfume the Air,
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While Sol shines forth to warm her.
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Hark pretty Birds, that on the Wing,
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Or on the Trees a dancing;
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'Tis not the Season makes you sing,
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But Joy for her advancing.
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III.
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Ye feather'd Kind, with warbling Throats
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Express your Inclination;
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And join with me, in moving Notes,
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To sing my ardent Passion.
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The Silver Streams their Channel leave,
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And Winds, as she is turning;
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The River-Gods such Love receive,
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Their Floods can't quench their Burning
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IV.
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Ye Zephyres, in your Gales, declare
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My Sighs for her Returning;
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And whisper gently, in her Ear,
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My Love and all my Mourning;
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Tell her She's both my Pain and Bliss:
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But while you this discover,
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From her sweet Lips, O snatch a Kiss,
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And bring it to her Lover!
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V.
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Your Charms a Loadstone to my Heart,
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Which steal and draw it to you.
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'Tis endless Pain from you to part,
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But Pleasure to pursue you,
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Heav'n and Light where you resort,
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And Darkness is your Absence.
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I think no Place can be a Court
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Without a Royal Presence.
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VI.
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As round a Flame a harmless Flie
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Is hovering and turning.
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Till kill'd by Heat: just so am I,
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In your bright Beauty, burning,
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O let your kind Adorer live
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In Hopes of Rest enjoying!
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'Tis God-like Peace and Life to give,
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What Merit's in destroying?
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VII.
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Cou'd I but hope for a Return,
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My boundless Love to favour;
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I'd be content for e'er to burn.
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Yet bless the Gods that gave her.
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Why flatter I myself with Hopes?
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Oh cruel Time call'd Never!
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My Joy a powerful Rival stops,
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And I must sigh forever.
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VIII.
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When drowning Men descry a Shoar,
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Who are with Death surrounded;
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Their Fear of Danger is no more,
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By Hope that Fear's confounded.
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So, when kind Fancy to my View
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Presents the wish'd-for Beauty;
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My Fears are lost, my Hopes renew,
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And nought remains but Duty.
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IX.
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Return, return, my Life, my Rest,
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My All, that I admire:
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Ye Gods, to make me doubly blest
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Her Heart's all I desire.
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Oh then, in moving Pity, bless
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My Hopes since I adore!
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There may be he that loves you less,
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Not he that loves you more.
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