The Dying Lovers Complaint.  
Daphne laments cause Strephon is unkind,  
Wanting his love no comfort he can find,  
●nd missing that which she desires to have,  
Poor Daphne sighs herself into the Grave.  
Tune of Young Phaon.  
 

I Am quite undone my cruel one  
has me forsaken quite,  
He is the man, in whom I can  
take pleasure and delight.   

But he's unkind and now I find  
my thread is almost spun,  
here I lament in discontent  
alas I'm quite undone.   

Whilst others sleep I mourn and weep  
in tears I ●m almost, drowned,  
When absent he is gone from me,  
No comfort can be found.   

In slumbering dreams methinks he seems  
to be full kind to me,  
But when I wake this great mistake  
brings sorrow certainly.   

The second part, To the same tune.  

My Golden hair I rend and tear  
like one, outrageous mad.  
Cupid say I, I thee defy  
thou wicked wanton Lad.   

A minute then scarce passed agest  
ere I do him implore,  
Cupid say I, thy deity  
I ever will adore.   

Thus do I pass my days alas  
and can no pleasure find,  
● sigh and cry continually  
he's cruel and unkind.   

Twice in a breath I wish for death  
such torments I endure,  
〈◊〉 he's ●ind I ne'er s'hall fin●  
〈…〉 get a cure.   

Then down I lie in hopes to die,  
●re him I see again,  
But thoughts of him brings life aga●●  
and thus prolongs my pain.   

Both cured and killed, blood shed & 〈◊〉  
all in a Moment is,  
From death could he again fetch 〈◊〉  
with one poor smile and kiss,   

Thus do I turn I freiz and burn  
in a most strange condition,  
No Doctor's Art can cure my smart.  
except he prove Physician.   

But hopes of that must be forgot  
and I must to the grave.  
Come welcome death and stop my breath  
that I some rest may have.     

Printed for, F Cole. T. Vere. J. Wrigh● J. Clark. W. Thackery. and T. Passenger.