Song “Cease cease Aminta to complain”
SE, cease,
Aminta, to complain, Thy languishments give o’er,
Why should’st thou sigh because the swain Another does adore?
Those charms, fond maid, that vanquish’d thee, Have many a conquest won,
And sure he could not cruel be And leave ’em all undone.
The youth a noble temper bears, Soft and compassionate, And thou canst only blame thy stars, That made thee love too late;
Yet had their influence all been kind They had not cross’d my fate,
The tenderest hours must have an end, And passion has its date.
The softest love grows cold and shy, The face so late
Now unregarded passes by, Or grows at last abhorr’d; All things in Nature fickle prove, See how they glide away;
Think so in time thy hopeless love Will die, as flowers decay.
Aphra Behn
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The Willing Mistriss
Amyntas led me to a Grove, Where all the Trees did shade us; The Sun it self, though it had Strove, It could not have betray'd us:
On the Death of E Waller Esq
How, to thy Sacred Memory, shall I bring (Worthy thy Fame) a grateful Offering I, who by Toils of Sickness, am become Almost as near as thou art to a Tomb While every soft, and every tender Strain Is ruffl'd, and ill-natur'd grown with P...
Song
Oh love that stronger art than Wine, Pleasing Delusion, Witchery divine,
To the Fair Clarinda
Who made love to me, Imagin'd more than woman Fair lovely Maid, or if that Title Too weak, too Feminine for Nobler thee,
