| |
| OH cruel Fate, when wilt thou weary be? | |
| When satisfied with tormenting me? | |
| What have I e’er designed, but thou hast crost? | |
| All that I wished to gain by thee, I’ve lost: | |
| From my first infancy, thy spite thou’st shown | 5 |
| And from my cradle, I’ve thy malice known; | |
| Thou snatch’st my parents in their tender age, | |
| Made me a victim to the furious rage | |
| Of cruel fortune, as severe as thee; | |
| Yet I resolved to brave my destiny, | 10 |
| And did, with more than female constancy. | |
| Not all thy malice could extort a tear, | |
| Nor all thy rage could ever teach me fear: | |
| Still as thy power diminished my estate | |
| My fortitude did my desires abate, | 15 |
| In every state I did my mind content | |
| And nicely did thy cross designs prevent; | |
| Seeing thy plots did unsuccessful prove, | |
| As a sure torment next, thou taught’st me love: | |
| But here thou wert deceived too, for my swain, | 20 |
| As soon as he perceived, pitied my pain: | |
| He met my passion with an equal fire, | |
| Both sweetly languished in a soft desire: | |
| Clasped in each other’s arms we sat all day, | |
| Each smile I gave he’d with a kiss repay: | 25 |
| In every hour an age’s bliss we reaped, | |
| And lavish favours on each other heaped. | |
| Now sure (thought I) destiny doth relent, | |
| And her insatiate tyranny repent: | |
| But how mistaken! how deceived was I! | 30 |
| Alas! she only raised my hopes thus high, | |
| To cast me down with greater violence; | |
| For midst our joys, she snatched my shepherd hence | |
| To Africa: yet though I was neglected, | |
| I bore it better than could be expected: | 35 |
| Without regret I let him cross the sea, | |
| When I was told it for his good would be, | |
| But when I heard the nuptial knot he’d tied, | |
| And made an Africk nymph his happy bride: | |
| My temper then I could no longer hold, | 40 |
| I cursed my fate, I cursed the power of gold, | |
| I cursed the easiness believed at first, | |
| And (Heaven forgive me) Him I almost cursed. | |
| Hearing my loss, to him was mighty gain; | |
| I checked my rage, and soon grew calm again: | 45 |
| Malicious Fate, seeing this would not do, | |
| Made Strephon wretched, to make me so too. | |
| Of all her plagues, this was the weightiest stroke, | |
| This blow my resolved heart hath almost broke: | |
| Yet, spite of Fate, this comfort I’ve in store, | 50 |
| She’s no room left for any ill thing more. | |
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