Song XXIII., p.273.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

ON a bank beside a willow, 

Heaven her covering, earth her pillow, 

Sad Amynta sigh’d alone: 

From the chearless dawn of morning, 

Till the dews of night returning, 

Singing, thus she made her moan, 

Hope is banish’d, 

Joys are vanish’d, 

Damon my belov’d is gone. 


Time, I dare thee to discover 

Such a youth and such a lover: 

Oh, so true so kind was he! 

Damon was the pride of nature, 

Charming in his every feature; 

Damon liv’d alone for me: 

Melting kisses, 

Murm’ring blisses, 

Who so liv’d and lov’d as we? 


Never shall we curse the morning, 

Never bless the night returning, 

Sweet embraces to restore; 

Never shall we both ly dying, 

Nature failing, love supplying 

All the joys he drain’d before: 

To befriend me, 

Death, come, end me, 

Love and Damon are no more. 

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