OLIMPYA'S Unfortunate Love: OR GALLIUS his Treacherous Cruelty. A new Song, as it is Sung in a Play, called, The Spanish friar. At the Dukes Theatre, with great applause.  
Fairest Olimpia at last being won,  
Did yield to Gallius, who has her undone,  
Her Honour's lost, and he does her Neglect  
His ends being gained he shows her no respect:  
But flies her arms, whilst that false Man she crys,  
And in her Blood her fatal Dagger dyes.  
To a pleasant new Play-House Tune.  
 man  man  

farewell ungrateful traitor,  
farewell my perjured Swain;  
Let never injured Creature,  
believe a Man again:  
The pleasure of possessing,  
Surpasses all expressing,  
But 'tis too short a Blessing,  
and love too long a pain.   

'tis easy to deceive us,  
in pitty of your pain,  
But when we love, you leave us,  
to rail at you in vain:  
Before we have discry'd it,  
There is no Bliss beside it,  
But she that once has tried it,  
will never love again.   

The passion you pretended,  
was only to obtain,  
But when the Charm is ended,  
the Charmer you disdain:  
Your love by ours we measure  
Till we have left our Treasure,  
But dying is a pleasure,  
when living is a pain.   

For who would live in Torment,  
to be each moment slain;  
By flames of love so fervent,  
enraged by mans disdain:  
When death has power to ease us,  
Of all the woes that seize us,  
And sorrows that displease us,  
so ne'er to grieve again.   

No Torture's like to loving,  
and not beloved again,  
Yet we are oft approving,  
of such a fatal bane:  
By crediting their wishes,  
Their Toying and their Kisses,  
Which do but raise our Blisses,  
to fall beneath disdain.   

They only are for pleasure,  
our Honours so to slain,  
Then let us grieve at leisure,  
they'l Laugh when we complain  
And still will prove more cruel,  
By adding of new Fuel,  
In which they think they do well,  
to Martyr us with pain.   

Whilst like the phoenix frying,  
we in sweet Gums remain,  
They triumph in our Dying,  
and boast they Trophies gain:  
But cruel man 'tis faded,  
Since you my Love invaded,  
I will not be upbraided,  
first Death shall end my pain.   

O witness all ye powers,  
how he my Love did gain,  
Whilst oft in shady Bowers,  
he swore he would remain  
The constantest of Lovers,  
But now my Loss discovers,  
How black my fate it hovers,  
and how his vows were vain.   

With that a sigh the breathed,  
whilst in her breast the flamme.  
Did struggle to be eased,  
when ah, she did proclaim:  
Too Cruel Galius flying,  
When thy Olimpia's Dying,  
With gloomy Eyes then eyeing  
each corner of the Plain.   

When as the Deaths keen message,  
out of her Bosom drew,  
And gave it speedy passage,  
her Life for to subdue:  
Then cried false Man, her passion,  
Who first for you took Station,  
Fate weds past alteration,  
Olympia Dyes for you.    

Printed for J Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street without Newgate.