English poem
THE CHARMS of MELODY, SONG 22
by Anonymous
The wanton god, who pierces hearts, Dips in gall his pointed darts: But the nymph disdains to pine, Who bathes the wound with rosy wine, Rosy wine, rosy wine, Who bathes the wound with rosy wine.
Farewell lovers, when they're cloy'd, If I'm scorn'd because enjoy'd— Sure the squeamish fops are free To rid me of dull company: Sure they're free, sure they're free To rid me of dull company.
They have charms whilst mine can please; I love them much, but more my ease: No jealous fears my love molest, Nor faithless vows shall break my rest— Break my rest, break my rest, Nor faithless vows shall break my rest.
Why should they e'er give me pain, Who to give me joy disdain? All I hope of mortal man, Is to love me while he can— While he can, while he can, Is to love me while he can.