A
SONG
.
By
the
Same
.
Set
to
Musick
by
Dr.
GREENE
.
I.
TO
silent
groves
,
where
weeping
yew
With
sadly-mournful
cypress
join'd
,
Poor
DAMON
from
the
plain
withdrew
,
To
ease
with
plaints
his
love-sick
mind
;
Pale
willow
into
mystick
wreaths
he
wove
,
And
thus
lamented
his
forsaken
love
.
II
.
How
often
,
CELIA
,
faithless
maid
,
With
arms
entwined
did
we
walk
Beneath
the
close
unpierced
shade
,
Beguiling
time
with
am'rous
talk
!
But
that
,
alas
!
is
past
,
and
I
must
prove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
III
.
But
think
not
,
CELIA
,
I
will
bear
With
dull
submission
all
the
smart
;
No
,
I'll
at
once
drive
out
despair
,
And
thy
lov'd
image
from
my
heart
:
All
arts
,
all
charms
I'll
practise
to
remove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
IV
.
Bacchus
,
with
greenest
ivy
crown'd
,
Hither
repair
with
all
thy
train
;
And
chace
the
jovial
goblet
round
,
For
CELIA
triumphs
in
my
pain
:
With
gen'rous
wine
assist
me
to
remove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
V.
Cou'd
reason
be
so
drown'd
in
wine
,
As
never
to
revive
again
,
How
happy
were
this
heart
of
mine
Reliev'd
at
once
from
all
its
pain
!
But
reason
still
with
love
returns
,
to
prove
The
torments
lasting
of
forsaken
love
.
VI
.
Bring
me
the
nymph
,
whose
gen'rous
soul
Kindles
at
the
circling
bowl
;
Whose
sparkling
eye
with
wanton
fire
Shoots
thro'
my
blood
a
fierce
desire
;
For
ev'ry
art
I'll
practise
to
remove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
VII
.
And
what
is
all
this
transient
flame
?
'Tis
but
a
blaze
,
and
seen
no
more
;
A
blaze
that
lights
us
to
our
shame
,
And
robs
us
of
a
gay
four-score
;
Reason
again
with
love
returns
,
to
prove
The
torment
lasting
of
forsaken
love
.
VIII
.
Hark
!
how
the
jolly
huntsman's
cries
,
In
concert
with
the
op'ning
hounds
,
Rend
the
wide
concave
of
the
skies
,
And
tire
dull
Echo
with
their
sounds
:
Thou
Phoebe
,
goddess
of
the
chace
,
remove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
IX
.
Ah
me
!
the
sprightly-bounding
doe
,
The
chace
,
and
every
thing
I
view
,
Still
to
my
mind
recall
my
woe
;
So
CELIA
flies
,
so
I
pursue
:
So
rooted
here
,
no
arts
can
e'er
remove
The
pangs
attending
on
forsaken
love
.
X.
Then
back
,
poor
DAMON
,
to
thy
grove
:
Since
nought
avails
to
ease
thy
pain
,
Let
constancy
thy
flame
improve
,
And
patience
answer
her
disdain
:
So
gratitude
may
CELIA'S
bosom
move
,
To
pity
and
reward
thy
constant
love
.