Ephelia

England

Song. (Number 8)

1.

Ephelia
, while her Flocks were fair,
Was sought by ev'ry Swain,
The Shepherds knew no other care,
Than how her Love to gain:
In Rural Gifts, they vainly strove
Each other to Out-vie,
Fondly imagining her Love
They might with Presents buy.
2.
But she did every Gift despise,
And ev'ry Shepherd hate,
Till
Strephon
came, whose Killing Eyes
Was ev'ry Woman's Fate:
A while, alas! She vainly strove
The Bleeding Wound to hide,
But soon with Pain cried out, I Love,
In spite of all my Pride.
3.
The Wolves might now at pleasure Prey,
On her defenseless Sheep;
Her Lambs o'er all the Plain did stray,
None in the Fold would keep;
But she regardless of these Harms,
In Pastimes spent the Day,
Or in her faithless
Strephon's
Arms,
Dissolved in Pleasures lay.
4.
But as Her num'rous Flocks decayed
His Passion did so too,
Till for a Smile the easy Maid
Was forced with Tears to woo:
But being Shrunk from few to none,
He left the Nymph forlorn,
Derided now by every one,
That she did lately scorn.
58