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A SONG.
1 On a bank, beside a willow, Heaven her covering, earth her pillow, Sad Amynta sigh'd alone: From the cheerless 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 beloved, is gone!
2 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 lived alone for me; Melting kisses, Murmuring blisses: Who so lived and loved as we?
3 Never shall we curse the morning. Never bless the night returning, Sweet embraces to restore: Never shall we both lie dying, Nature failing, Love supplying All the joys he drain'd before:
Death come end me, To befriend me: Love and Damon are no more.
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