SONG
V.
AS
near
a
weeping
spring
reclin'd
The
beauteous
ARAMINTA
pin'd
,
And
mourn'd
a
false
ungrateful
youth
;
While
dying
echoes
caught
the
sound
,
And
spread
the
soft
complaints
around
Of
broken
vows
and
alter'd
truth
;
An
aged
shepherd
heard
her
moan
,
And
thus
in
pity's
kindest
tone
Address'd
the
lost
despairing
maid
:
Cease
,
cease
unhappy
fair
to
grieve
,
For
sounds
,
tho'
sweet
,
can
ne'er
relieve
A
breaking
heart
by
love
betray'd
.
Why
shouldst
thou
waste
such
precious
showers
,
That
fall
like
dew
on
wither'd
flowers
,
But
dying
passion
ne'er
restor'd
?
In
beauty's
empire
is
no
mean
,
And
woman
,
either
slave
or
queen
,
Is
quickly
scorn'd
when
not
ador'd
.
Those
liquid
pearls
from
either
eye
,
Which
might
an
eastern
empire
buy
,
Unvalued
here
and
fruitless
fall
;
No
art
the
season
can
renew
When
love
was
young
,
and
DAMON
true
;
No
tears
a
wandering
heart
recall
.
Cease
,
cease
to
grieve
,
thy
tears
are
vain
,
Should
those
fair
orbs
in
drops
of
rain
Vie
with
a
weeping
southern
sky
:
For
hearts
o'ercome
with
love
and
grief
All
nature
yields
but
one
relief
;
Die
,
hapless
ARAMINTA
,
die
.