Song LXXII., pp.324-325.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

YOU may cease to complain, 

For your suit is in vain, 

All attempts you can make 

But augments her disdain; 

She bids you give over 

While ‘tis in your power, 

For except her esteem 

She can grant you no more: 

Her heart has been long since 

Assaulted and won, 

Her truth is as lasting 

And firm as the sun; 

You’ll find it more easy 

Your passion to cure, 

Than for ever those fruitless 

Endeavours endure. 

– 

You may give this advice 

To the wretched and wise, 

But a lover like me 

Will those precepts despise; 

I scorn to give over 

Were it in my power; 

Tho’ esteem were deny’d me, 

Yet her I’ll adore, 

A heart that’s been touch’d 

Will some simpathy bear, 

‘Twill lessen my sorrows 

If she takes a share; 

I’ll count it more honour 

In dying her slave, 

Than did her affections 

The steddiness crave. 

– 

You may tell her I’ll be 

Her true lover, tho’ she 

Should mankind despise 

Out of hatred to me; 

‘Tis mean to give o’er 

Cause we get no reward, 

She lost not her worth 

When I lost her regard; 

My love on an altar 

More noble shall burn, 

I still will love on 

Without hopes of return; 

I’ll tell her some other 

Has kindled the flame, 

And I’ll sigh for herself 

In another one’s name. 

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