Tixall Poetry/The Constant Lover

by unknown author

LVII.

The Constant Lover.

 

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I cannot change as others doe,
 Though you unkindly scorne,
That faithfull swaine that sighs for you,
 For you alone was borne.
Noe, Phillis, noe, your hart to move
 Another way I'll try,
And to revenge my slighted love,
 Will still love on, and die.

When kild with greife Amintas lies,
 And you to mind will call,
Those sighs that now unpitied rise,
 Those teares that faintly fall;
That happy houre that ends my smart
 Will then begin your paine,
For such a faithfull tender hart
 Will never breake in vaine.

 

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