BEAUTY's Cruelty: OR, The Passionate Lover.  
An excellent new Play-song much in Request,  
to a Playhouse Tune.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 

THere is one black and sullen hour,  
which Fate decrees ourdives should know,  
〈◊〉 we should flight Almighty Power,  
Wrapped with the joys we find below:  
〈◊〉 is past dear Cynthia, now let frowns be gone.  
A long, long penance I have done,  
a long, long penance I have done,  
For Crimes to me, alas! unknown,  
for Crimes to me, alas! unknown,   

In each soft hour of silent night,  
your Image in my Dream appears,  
I grasp the Soul of my delight,  
slumber in joy, but waked in tears;  
Ah! faithless charming Saint what will you to,  
Let me not think I am by you,  
let me not think I am by you,  
Loved less, loved less, for being true,  
loved less, loved less, for being true,   

Before dear Cynthia I beheld,  
thy charming face, my heart was free  
From Love, and knew not how to yield  
to any Beauty but to thee:  
Bright as the Sun that in the East doth rise,  
Did force me by a sweet surprise,  
did force me by a sweet surprise,  
To yield the Conquest to your Eyes,  
to yield the Conquest to your Eyes.   

One pleasing Smile my charming Fair,  
my Lovesick Heart with joy to fill,  
Thy piercing Frowns breeds my Despair,  
Oh! let those Eyes that wound not hill;  
Since by a smile my heart you did inspire,  
And created in it a Fire,  
and created, etc.  
That never, never can expire,  
that never, never, can expire.   

No longer then thus tyrannise,  
but all your cruelty give o'er  
And not a heart so true despise,  
that will for ever you adore:  
Ah, charming Nymph grant love for love again  
Do not by Frowns create my pain;  
do not by Frowns, etc.  
Nor torture me by your disdain,  
nor torture me by your disdain,   

What is my Crime, dear Cynthia, that  
my punishment is so severe?  
Tell me that I may expiate  
my Crime, by a repenting tear:  
Forbear by Cruelty to tortue me,  
I offer you a Heart that's free  
I offer you a Heart, etc.  
From false deceit and flattery,  
from false deceit and flattery.   

Oh! why you Powers did you frame  
her heart so hard and face so fair?  
Her face did first my heart inflame,  
her cruelty breeds my despair:  
Make her more kind, you Powers, than I crave.  
That she may cure the wound the gave,  
that she may cure, etc.  
Or send me to my wished-for Grave,  
or send me to my wished-for Grave.    

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel, in Gilt-spur-street, without Newgate.