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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.John Dryden John Dryden's other poems:
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