Ephelia

England

The Second Song.

Come quickly Death,
And with thy fatal Dart,
Release that Heart
That hath too long been thy great Rival's Slave:
Oh! stop that Breath
I languish out in pain;
Let me not Sigh in vain,
But quick and gently send me to my Grave.
For since that Swain
That I so dearly prize,
Doth scorn my Sighs,
And break those Sacred Vows to me he gave;
I'll not complain
Of Man's Inconstancy,
But humbly Beg of thee,
With speed and ease, To send me to my Grave.
And Love I'll still
Adore thy Deity,
And Worship thee:
If to my altered Shepherd thou'lt Relate,
Since 'twas his will,
I should not call him mine,
I freely can Resign,
And Die for him, And glory in my Fate.
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