The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume II by Aphra Behn
page 52 of 674 (07%)
page 52 of 674 (07%)
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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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