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The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume II by Aphra Behn
page 52 of 674 (07%)
The Sun is up and will not stay;
And oh how very short's a Lover's Day_!

Swain enters, with Shepherds and Shepherdesses, and Pipes.

_I hear thy charming Voice, my Fair,
And see, bright Nymph, thy Swain is here;
Who his Devotions had much earlier paid,
But that a Lamb of thine was stray'd;
And I the little Wanderer have brought,
That with one angry Look from thy fair Eyes,
Thou may'st the little Fugitive chastise,
Too great a Punishment for any Fault.
Come_, Galatea, _haste away,
The Sun is up and will not stay,
And oh how very short's a Lover's Day_! [Dance.

_King_. How likes _Florella_ this?

_Flor_. Sir, all Delight's so banish'd from my Soul,
I've lost the Taste of every single Joy.

_Abd_. God's! this is fine! Give me your Art of Flattery,
Or something more of this, will ruin me--
Tho I've resolv'd her Death, yet whilst she's mine,
I would not have her blown by Summer Flies.

_Phil_. Mark how he snarls upon the King!
The Cur will bite anon.

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