Page:Tixall Poetry.djvu/178

 But ere those ioyes we tasted,
You in peevishnes, or state,
 The time had almost wasted.

Phillis.
Twas my love did yours distroy,
Strephon, had I still been coy,
 I know you then would prize me;
Thinke you dreamt you did inioy,
 And then youll not dispise me.

Once againe your love persue,
And I my scorne too will renew,
 But passion doth soe sway me;
That could I my teares subdue,
 My sighs would soone betray me.

Strephon.
Sigh nor weepe noe more in vaine,
Nimph, your beauty soon will gaine
 A more deserving lover;
Slaves that once have broke there chaine,
 You seidome can recover.