A Song

Thyrsis, a young and am'rous Swain,
Saw two, the Beauties of the Plain;
Who both his Heart subdue:
Gay Cælia's Eyes were dazzling fair,
Sabina's easy Shape and Air
With softer Magick drew.
He haunts the Stream, he haunts the Grove,
Lives in a fond Romance of Love,
And seems for each to dye;
'Till each a little spiteful grown,
Sabina Cælia's Shape ran down,
And she Sabina's Eye.
Their Envy made the Shepherd find
Those Eyes, which Love cou'd only blind;
So set the Lover free:
No more he haunts the Grove or Stream,
Or with a True-love Knot and Name
Engraves a wounded Tree.
Ah Cælia! (sly Sabina cry'd)
Tho' neither love, we're both deny'd;
Now, to support the Sex's Pride,
Let either fix the Dart.
Poor Girl! (says Cælia) say no more;
For shou'd the Swain but one adore,
That Spite which broke his Chains before,
Wou'd break the other's Heart.