The Constant LOVER: OR, Celia's Glory expressed to the Life. A pleasant new Song (as it's sung after the Italian manner) and great in Request at Court, and in the City.  
To a pleasant new Tune of, Why are my Eyes still flow-ing  

This may be Printed,  
R. P.   

 

WHy are my Eyes still flow—ing?  
why does my Heart thus trembling move?  
Why do I sigh when go—ing  
to see the Darling-Saint I love?  
Ah! she's my Heaven, and in my Eye  
Love's Dei— tie:  
There is no Life like to what she can give,  
Nor any Death like taking my leave.   

Tell me no more of Glow— ry,  
to Court's Ambition I'ave resigned;  
But tell a long long sto—ry  
of Celia's Face, her Shape and Mind;  
Spoke too of Raptures that would Life destroy,  
To en— joy:  
Had I a Diadem, Sceptre and Ball,  
For that dear minute I'd part with 'em all.   

For that would be a Trea— sure,  
beyond what e'er the World can give;  
A joy beyond all mea— sure,  
must needs in such Endearments live:  
 
Such tender Blessing, who too much can prise?  
which— arise  
Beyond the reach of mortals tell,  
And in themselves all pleasures excel.   

Tell her those Roses blow—ing  
that in her Face create a spring,  
Those Lilies that are grow—ing,  
at every sight fresh Raptures bring;  
Which breathe into my heart Love's Gentle fire  
make me— desire  
The dear enjoyment that I long is gain  
To which I wade even in a Sea of Pain.   

Yet pain's to me a Plea— sure  
since 'tis for her whom I adore  
I'll wait till she's at lea— sure  
her's with thy Captive heart restore  
I'll scorn to think I suffer when such bliss  
such— happiness  
As with a Glance can banish despair,  
Is still at hand my drooping soul to cheer.   

As when the Sun by Beam—ing  
upon the frozen Earth unbinds;  
Her Icey Chains she seem—ing  
dead to mankind new Life soon finds,  
Killed by it● warmer Rays, she pregnant grows,  
And be— stows,  
Her Plenty on the long expecting Swain,  
To let him see his hopes were not in vain.   

Go bear ye Winds, my sigh—ing  
in gentle Gales to her relate;  
I languish, and am dy—ing,  
tell her, 'tis she must stay my Fate:  
Tell her, her eyes have given me a Wound,  
that— uncrowned  
All happiness that the world did yield,  
And from the Conqueror won the field.   

Love's harvest is exceed—ing  
when his soft Fires do gently move  
When his Kindness is a breed—ing  
in the kind hearts of those we Love:  
Breathe, breathe, these Fires into my Celia's breast  
To make— me blessed,  
But let the gentle flame move calmly there,  
Calm as the thoughts of new born Infants are.    

Celia's Answer to the Constant Lover. The Second Part,  
To the same Tune.  

WHilst Strephon was bewail—ing,  
the absence of his charming fair,  
And thou 'twas nought avail—ing,  
the Beauteous Celia she drew near:  
All gay as new blown Roses are  
She did ap— pear;  
And hearing from the cool Grove his moan,  
She in pity made this kind return.   

Come cease your eyes from flow—ing,  
and let not my poor beauties move  
A Shepherd that's so know—ing  
in all the secret ways of Love:  
Ah! sigh not after me for I,  
No Dei— tie  
Can boast, nor give the pleasure you feign,  
Nor make you feel a moment of Pain.   

Resine not then the Glo—ry  
that blooming youth bids you embrace,  
For things more Transi— tory  
to dote upon a fading Face:  
Great things pursue and lay Raptures by  
Which de— stroy  
What honours building in a mighty mind,  
Cease then to love, to your Fame be more kind.   

Where merit is command— ing,  
and Constancy does bear its part,  
Alas there's no withstand—ing  
For why they storm the hardest heart.  
Long time I did a Siege sustain,  
But all in— vain,  
For like the Winter by the Spring o'erthrown,  
I melt dear Strephon and am thy own.   

If Roses they are blow—ing  
for you they be blooming in my Face,  
For you they there are grow—ing  
For you the Lilies all take place;  
To please my Strephon all Conspire,  
To raise high— ere  
Love's charming Power to ravish the Mind,  
When to my dearest I strive to be kind.   

My Strephon then leave sigh—ing  
to Winds no more your Passion breath;  
Nor speak as if a dy—ing  
be you but constant and still live;  
Live in your kindest Celia's heart let there  
Love de—clare  
The mighty Empire you o'er her have gained  
And now a Virgin's kind Heart you have chained.     

Printed for I. Conyers at the Black Raven a little above St. Andrews Church in Holbourn.