AMINTAS, Or, The constant Shepherd's complaint.  
Whilst others take delight to range,  
And mostly pleasure take in change,  
Amintas vows he'll constant prove,  
Unto the death to his dear Love.  
Tune of, Young Pheon strove the bliss to taste.  

 

Chaste thoughts within my lovesick breast  
most welcome do I find,  
Whilst other rangers are possessed  
with a lascivious mind,  
Let others love variety,  
my Caelia i'll adore,  
And might I gain her company  
I'd never covet more.   

Such charming sweetness in her eyes,  
I e'ré was wont to find,  
They did attract and still surprise,  
and captivate my mind,  
But though she's fickle I must love  
and cannot but admire,  
Though she my passion disaprove,  
it more augments my fire.   

Cupid has made too deep a wound,  
that for to cure the smart,  
There's none but she that can be found  
to ease my Lovesick heart,  
Oh! might I be so fortunate  
my Shepherdess to gain,  
But she contemns my mean estate,  
and laughs at all my pain.   

Her beauty's such none can withstand,  
the attractives of her eyes,  
The greatest Monarch may command,  
and at first view surprise,  
Yea gods! her victim I'll be still  
and must adore her charms,  
Though she should be enclosed still  
within another's Arms.   
 
 
 

Oh cruel fair! how oft did you  
both swear and eke protest,  
Your love both real was and true,  
when yet you were in jest,  
Whilst I believed and did receive  
your words with listening strange,  
Yet now you scornfully deceive,  
and love to rove and range.   

How many hours by me been spent  
in sobs and sighs in vain,  
Each minute full of discontent.  
regardless of my pain,  
Whilst Siren like your looks in snare,  
intending to deceive,  
For till they love you speak them fair,  
and then you take your leave,    

The second part  
to the same Tune,  

Beware fair Nymph lest Cupid's Dart  
against you being bend,  
 long ensnare your stubborn heart  
and cause you to repent,  
Although that now you scornful are  
and pity not my flame,  
True Lovers are the gods chief care,  
who will repay the same.   

You tax us with inconstancy  
when we poor men do find,  
Your Sex does love Variety  
more fickle than the Wind,  
The Ship that rides upon the Waves  
more steadfast in foul weather,  
'gainst which the curling Billows laves  
oft sailing God knows whether.   

The Choristers within the Groves  
with warbling notes can tell,  
When Philomel did chant our loves  
I thought that all was well;  
The merry Shepherds on the Lawn,  
how would they sing your praise,  
 blushing Sol began to dawn  
in their sweet Roundelays.   

But finding you unconstant prove,  
the Scene is altered quite,  
Although they blame me for my Love,  
to you they bear a spite,  
Instead of praises curses store  
on you each day bestow,  
When that your name comes them before  
as with their flocks they go.   

In time therefore my Rival leave,  
though tempting be his charms,  
Your dying Shepherd wronged receive  
into your Snowy Arms,  
The gods they have designed, that you  
must be my wife at last,  
Then we shall greet like Lovers true  
when Storms are gone and passed.   

Then shall I well rewarded be,  
with bliss for all my pain,  
And endless my felicity.  
when constant you remain.  
New transports we shall always find,  
for to increase Love's fire,  
When both are mutually thus joined,  
and have but one desire.     

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden Ball in West-smithfield.