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For now she rules me with her look,
And round me winds her harlot chain ; Whilst by a strange enchantment struck,
My nobler will recoils in vain.
But, had the oak denied its shade,
The weed had trail'd in dust below; And she, had I her suit gainsaid,
Might still have pin’d in want and woe : Now, both our deaths will prove, I guess, The triumph of unthankfulness.
EN Damon languish'd at my feet, And I beheld him true, The moments of delight how sweet!
But ah! how swift they flew ! The sunny bill, the flow'ry vale,
The garden and the grove Have echoed to his ardent tale,
And vows of endless love.
The conquest gain'd, he left his prize, 4
He left her to complain,
And measure timely pain.
In pity to despair ;
Shall waft the spirit there.,
From anxious zeal and factious strife,
Where Philomel in mournful strains
My lyre to tender accents strung,
Superior thoughts my mind engage,
HY heaves my fond bosom ? ah what can it
mean! Why flutters my heart that was once so serene? Why this sighing and trembling when Daphne is
near ? Or why, when she's absent, this sorrow and fear?
Forever, methinks, I with wonder could trace
Untainted by folly, unsullied by pride,
Tell me, Damon, dost thou languish
With a slow, consuming fire;
For the maid thou dost admire ?
Flying, dost thou still pursue her?
Absent, does she haunt thy dream?
Is her worth thy only theme?
If thy heart such passion prove,
Does each rival's merit grieve thee?
Whilst in health, dost thou complain? Can no halm but love relieve thee?
None but Celia ease thy pain? If thy heart such passion prove, Shepherd, thou dost truly love.
Canst thou view each bright perfection
In her mind, and in her face? Does each fault escape detection,
Ev'ry blemish seem a grace? If thy heart such passion prove, Shepherd, thou dost truly love.
Then in love if there be pleasure,
Unallay'd by care or pain, Venus shall confer the treasure
On her true devoted swain. Venus shall thy suit approve; Shepherd, thou dost truly love.