(John Dryden)

The Tears of Amynta for the Death of Damon



ON a Bank, beside a Willow,
Heavn her Covring, Earth her Pillow,
Sad Amynta sighd alone;
From the chearless dawn of Morning
Till the Dews of Night returning,
Singing thus she made her mone:
      Hope is banishd,
      Joys are vanishd,
Damon, my belovd, is gone!

Time, I dare thee to discover
Such a Youth, and such a Lover;
Oh, so true, so kind was he!
Damon was the pride of Nature,
Charming in his every Feature;
Damon livd alone for me:
      Melting Kisses,
      Murmuring Blisses;
Who so livd and lovd as we!

Never shall we curse the Morning,
Never bless the Night returning,
Sweet Embraces to restore:
Never shall we both ly dying,
Nature failing, love supplying
All the Joys he draind before.
      Death come end me
      To befriend me;
Love and Damon are no more.

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