Damon and Celia, Or, the languishing Lover comforted.
Of all new Songs, the Poet hopes that this
Will please you well, because he knows it is
A very good one, you may find hereby,
There's nothing lost by loving constantly.
Which ought to be all honest Lovers Guide
But as for such who no delays abide;
Let them love one, for half and hour no more,
And when they've done go call their Mrs. whore.
To a pleasant New play-house Tune, Called
No, no tis in vain, &c.
NO, no, 'tis in vain,
Though I sigh and complain,
Yet the secret I'le never reveal:
The VVracks shall not tear it,
From my breast, but I'le bear it,
to the Grave, where it ever shall dwell:
Oh! would that the Gods had created her low,
and plat'd the poor
Hylas above,
Then, then I a present might freely bestow,
of a heart that is all over Love.
Like the Damn'd from the fire,
I may gaze and admire,
Yet never can hope to be bless:
Oh the pangs of a Love,
That dares not discover,
The Poyson that lodg'd in his Breast:
Like a Deer that is wounded I bleeding run on,
and fain I the passion would hide,
But oh 'tis vain, for wherever I run,
the bloody Dart sticks in my side.
Like a Ship on the Ocean,
That's ever in motion,
Continually tumbl'd and tost:
VVhen each greedy wave
Portendeth a grave
and on the hard Rock to be lest:
Each frown from my
Celia does threaten my woe
which alas I find to be true,
My torments do follow where ever I go,
'tis in vain to
[...]ye, fate will persue.
If the cause she'd discover,
To her languishing Lover,
Why, why she so cruel doth prove,
An Alter i'le raise,
And her anger appease,
By a sacrific'd heart to her Love:
Then Cupid would know the fault lay not in me
and ease my destraction and pain,
Methinks to his God-head an honour twould be,
in making her love me again.
But if he take part,
To destroy my poor heart
Then i'le curse both his Quiver and Bow,
For he if he please,
Can to Lovers give ease,
And make them his power to know,
My
Celia from blame I will ever set free,
and her name I will always adore,
She's a Goddess on earth, to be worship'd by me
expecting her blessing in store.
Celia's Kind Answer.
IT is not in vain,
You do sigh and complain,
For the secret to me is reveal'd:
My Breast now doth bear it,
VVhere for ever I'le wear it,
such flames cannot long be conceal'd:
The Gods have created me low to your mind,
and plac'd your affections above,
The present I ask is that still you'd prove kind
and give me that heart full of Love.
Like the blest free from trouble,
Tur joys still may double,
And never no sorrow can know,
Then happy's that Lover,
VVhich dares not discover,
Those flames which occasion his woe:
Like a prisoner set free, he may sing and rejoyce
when he from confinement is clear,
If his Love prove kind, then thrice happy's his choice,
no bloody darts after appear.
Like a Merchant whose treasure
Comes home in full, measure,
From the
Indies who long have been gone,
Such joys do abound,
To a Lover that's Crown'd,
With success, that before look'd for none:
Now smile my dear
Damon, the day is your own,
no more of your
Celia complain,
Your constancy my true affections hath won,
then count not your sorrows in vain.
It was only to Try ye,
Which made me deny ye,
The cause now you certainly know,
My heart you shall have,
Till cold death to the Grave,
Does force us to pay what we owe:
Little
Cupid hath heard thee, & made me prove kind,
he heard your complains e'ry day,
But when the night came, he did torture my mind
by telling me what you did say.
He was your best friend,
And your suit did commend,
Then pritty sweet
Damon, no more,
Let's not angry prove,
To the God of our love,
but for ever his power adore:
My heart is thy own, and i'le give thee my hand,
we'l marry and make no delay,
And I my own self will be at thy command,
to please thee by night and by day.
FINIS
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, & T. Passenger.