AMYNTAS. If all the fates combine, And all the furies join, I'll force my way to Phillis, and break through the charm. 20 [Here they break from their keepers, run to each other, and embrace. PHILLIS. Shall I marry the man I love? And shall I conclude my pains? And the vapours leave my brains. AMYNTAS. Body join'd to body, and heart join'd to heart, 25 Go call the man in black, to mumble o'er his part. And the better the sooner begun. CHORUS OF BOTH. At worst if he delay, &c. 30 35 [They run out together hand in hand. SONGS IN THE INDIAN EMPEROR. I. АH fading joy; how quickly art thou past! As if the cares of human life were few, We seek out new: And follow fate, which would too fast pursue. But on their mother Nature lay their care: As none of all his subjects undergo? Dash, dash upon the ground, To gentle slumbers call. 5 10 15 II. I LOOK'D and saw within the book of fate, When many days did lour, When lo! one happy hour Leap'd up, and smil'd to save the sinking state; A day shall come when in thy power Thy cruel foes shall be; 5 Then shall thy land be free: SONG IN THE MAIDEN QUEEN. I FEED a flame within, which so torments me, Yet he for whom I grieve shall never know it; 5 Thus, to prevent my love from being cruel, 10 On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me; Where I conceal my love no frown can fright me: To be more happy, I dare not aspire; Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher. 15 10 SONGS IN THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. I. WHEREVER I am, and whatever I do, 5 My feet, of themselves, the way find: Unknown to myself I am just at her door, And, when I would rail, I can bring out no more, Than, Phyllis too fair and unkind! When Phyllis I see, my heart bounds in my breast, 10 When from my eyes Phyllis is gone. Sometimes a sad dream does delude my sad mind; But, alas! when I wake, and no Phyllis I find, How I sigh to myself all alone! Should a king be my rival in her I adore, He should offer his treasure in vain: O, let me alone to be happy and poor, And give me my Phyllis again! Let Phyllis be mine, and but ever be kind, Alas! I discover too much of my love, 15 20 25 She makes me each day a new martyrdom prove, II. HE. How unhappy a lover am I, While I sigh for my Phyllis in vain ; All my hopes of delight Are another man's right, Who is happy, while I am in pain! 5 SHE. Since her honour allows no relief, But to pity the pains which you bear, 'Tis the best of your fate, In a hopeless estate, To give o'er, and betimes to despair. HE. I have tried the false med'cine in vain ; From without, my desire Has no food to its fire; But it burns and consumes me within. SHE. Yet, at least, 'tis a pleasure to know For the nymph you adore Is as wretched, and more; And counts all your sufferings her own. |