Unconstant Phillis.
OR, The Infortunate Shepherds Lamentation.
A Shepherd Swain in Love with
Phillis fair,
By her disdain in brought to such dispair,
That doubtless he will dye without relief,
Such is his sorrow, and so great his grief,
His
Phillis lov'd him once, but he neglected
The present time, and now he is rejected.
To an excellent new play-house Tune: Or, Tell me no more you love.
HOw cruel is Fortune grown,
to turn all my hopes to dispair
From bliss I am headlong thrown,
and banisht the sight of my dear:
Grant me some pitty kind heaven,
to my sorrows afford some relief,
Or let my poor soul be given,
a Martyr unto my grief.
All night I can take no rest,
but
Phillis is still in my mind,
In dreams I with her am blest,
but waking I find her unkind;
Which pierceth my heart full sore,
and wounds me in every vein,
So much that I cry and roar,
whilst she Triumphs in disdain.
Ah
Phillis remember yet,
what pleasing delights I gave,
I am sure you can't forget,
you said I was brisk and brave:
'Twas under the Sycamore tree,
then, then, Oh then that same time,
You vow'd that you did love me,
and counted not love a crime.
Those kisses you gave me then,
will witness against your hate,
Come Kiss me so once agen,
and I'le never complain of my fate:
Those delights you would equally share
which were you consenting you'd find;
Come hang't never sigh nor fear,
but do't with a willing mind.
If that I for love should dye,
you'd want such a faithful friend;
You know it as well as I,
I need not my self commend:
Your kindnesses i
[...]le reward,
and doubly your love i'le requite;
Then
Phillis my suit regard,
and rob me not of my right.
Ah! was it not better far?
when lovingly we did meet;
Then cruel thus as you are,
with hatred your Lover to greet:
That life which doth yet remain,
to love I for ever resign;
And though I do suffer pain,
the fault shall he none of mine.
I am plung'd in a desperate Pool
of folly, as well as Love,
For he is negligent Fool,
that will not his time improve;
My
Phillis once gave me her heart,
and lov'd me more dearer than life,
She vow'd she would never part,
but live with me as a Wife.
I trusted too much on her vow,
and was not so fond as she,
Which makes me repent it now,
because she is cruel to me:
This makes me distracted and mad,
and shall never be quiet in mind,
To think of those joys I have had,
and find pritty
Phillis unkind.
Ye powers of love can tell
my passion is true and just;
My
Phillis I love so well,
that without her I perish must:
So passionate's my desire,
and so eagerly burns the flame;
That glady I could expire,
repeating her very name.
Ile to her, and once agen
my desperate sorrows relate,
One smile would relieve my pain,
and banish my threating fate:
If now I do fancy aright,
& the God of love stand but my friend
Then I shall have such delight,
that never can have an
[...]
End.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball, in W [...]st-smith-field.