SONG III. STREPHON and PHAEBE

Young Strephon long doated on Phaebe the Fair. Whose Heart, of his Anguish did secretly share, But fearing his Passion would changeable prove, She prudently check'd the soft Dictates of Love.

The Beauties you fancy, the fair One wou'd say, Are Charms for a Moment and doom'd to decay. Love founded so slightly, can never prove true, The Bloom disappears, the Passion dies too.

O wrong not your Beauty, reply'd the fond Swain, It's lasting Impression will ever remain, Tho' Age like the Winter may blast thy fair Prime, Yet Virtue still blooming gains Vigour by Time.

The Strongth of my Eyes with your Charms will decline, Nor gaze at a Face that is younger than thine, While this faithful Heart ever true to my Vow. Preserves thy dear Image as bright as 'tis now.

Then banish dear Phaebe each Doubt and each Fear, That makes fancied Evils like real appear, The swift flying Moments with Ardour improve, And grant the reward that is due to my Love.

Kind Phaebe assenting believ'd the fond Youth Who prov'd that his Passion was founded on Truth, Tho' envious Age may her Beauty impair, Her Virtue and Honour will ever be fair.