Poem by John Dryden

The Tears of Amynta for the Death of Damon

                  Song

                    1

ON a Bank, beside a Willow,
Heav’n her Cov’ring, Earth her Pillow,
Sad Amynta sigh’d alone;
From the chearless dawn of Morning
Till the Dews of Night returning,
Singing thus she made her mone:
      Hope is banish’d,
      Joys are vanish’d,
Damon, my belov’d, is gone!
 
                    2

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 liv’d alone for me:
      Melting Kisses,
      Murmuring Blisses;
Who so liv’d and lov’d as we!
 
                    3

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 drain’d before.
      Death come end me
      To befriend me;
Love and Damon are no more.

1. Te Deum
2. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire
3. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
4. Epitaph on Sir Palmes Fairborne's Tomb in Westminster Abbey
5. On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk

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