Aphra Behn

While my sad Muse the darkest Covert Sought,
To give a loose to Melancholy Thought;
Opprest, and sighing with the Heavy Weight Of an Unhappy dear Lov'd Monarch's Fate;
A lone retreat, on Thames's Brink she found,

Love in Fantastique Triumph satt,
Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,
For whom Fresh pains he did create,
And strange Tryanic power he show'd;

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...

All trembling in my arms Aminta lay,
Defending of the bliss I strove to take;
Raising my rapture by her kind delay,
Her force so charming was and weak

Oh love
that stronger art than Wine,
Pleasing Delusion,
Witchery divine,

This Little,
Silent,
Gloomy Monument, Contains all that was sweet and innocent ; The softest pratler that e'er found a Tongue, His Voice was Musick and his Words a Song ; Which now each List'ning Angel smiling hears, Such pretty Harmonie...

Mourn,
Mourn, ye Muses, all your loss deplore,
The Young, the Noble Strephon is no more
Yes, yes, he fled quick as departing Light,