Tixall Poetry/Strephon

XXXV.

Strephon.


As Amorett and Phillis sattOne evening on the plaine,And saw the charming Strephon waite,To tell the nimph his paine;The threatening danger to remove,She whispered in her eare,Ah! Phillis, if you would not love,That sheapard doe not heare.
None ever had soe strong an art,His passion to convay,Into a listning virgin's hart,And steale her soule away.Fly, fly betimes, for feare you giveOccasion for your fate;In vaine, she said, in vaine you strive,Alas! tis now too late.