Amintas that true-hearted Swain
Upon a River’s bank was laid,
Where to the pitying streams he did complain
Of Sylvia that false charming Maid,
But she was still regardless of his pain:
Oh faithless Sylvia! would he cry,
And what he said the Echoes would reply.
Be kind or else I die, else I die.
Be kind or else I die, else I die.
A shower of tears his eyes let fall,
Which in the River made impress,
Then sigh’d, and Sylvia false again would call,
A cruel faithless Shepherdess.
Is Love with you become a criminal?
Ah lay aside this needless scorn,
Allow your poor Adorer some return,
Consider how I burn, else I burn.
Consider how I burn, else I burn
Those Smiles and Kisses which you give.
Remember, Sylvia, Are my due;
And all the Joys my Rival does receive
He ravishes from me, not you.
Ah Sylvia, can I live and this believe?
Insensibles are touched to see
My languishments, and seem to pity me.
Which I demand of thee, else of thee,
Which I demand of thee, else of thee.
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