CELIAS Answer TO The LOVER'S Complaint.
To the same Tune.
WHat is this I hear still by all I do meet,
A
complaint against Celia is Sung in the street,
Where she scornful is made, and cruel does prove
To
Strephon who is with
Celia in Love.
Nay likewise they say for Love he will dye,
Unless that his
Celia to have does comply,
He further complains that my hearts made of stone,
And yet he'l have
Celia, or else he'l have none.
And since I must give him an Answer indeed,
He speak from my Heart as I am a true Maid,
He Courted me long, and I slighted him still,
Tho twas not perhaps for any ill will.
But caution did make me to use him like one,
That came as a visit and so to be gone,
Tho he often would sigh, then his Eyes they would dart
Which many a time I felt at my heart.
But men are deceitful which made me still shie,
What their tongue often speaks, yet their hearts gives the lye
And few there are found of Men to be true,
VVhich made me always be scornful to you.
For daily I see that young
Maidens are wrong'd,
By Batchellors with their fine flattering Tongue,
They swear they do love till they've gain'd their desire,
Which when once possest then soon they retire.
Thus Men being false causes me to beware,
Least I by such Men should be drawn in a snare,
As thousands there be that by young men's undone,
In believing what's said by a lying Tongue.
But if that I thought that young Strephon
was true,
And would love in earnest I would do so too,
I mean not for time, but for ever and ay,
I am not for love that holds but a day.
There fore if you come with intent for to wed,
Nere fear but a loving kind VVife may be had,
I love you tis true, I declare on my life,
And happy should be if I once were your wife.
Oh what i'st I say, I have here told my mind,
Oh now I am ruin'd if
Strephon's unkind,
My love I cant hide, but must let the world know,
Tis
Strephon I love tho I tortur'd him so.
If he now should leave me for what I have done,
Then for love of him I distracted shall run,
Oh why did I use him so cruel before,
VVhen at the same time I did him adore.
Now come lovely
Strephon my Heart is thy own,
VVith grief I have heard all thy sorrow and moan,
And if you will wed, then this I will say,
Since
Strephon consents then to morrow's the day.
Printed for Charles Barnet.