The Sorrowful Shepherd

Ah! whither, alas! shall I fly? What clime shall I seek for relief? Since PHILLIS no longer is nigh, O! how shall I smother my grief. The sweetest, the fairest, is she— So neatly she trips o'er the plain; But now she ne'er smiles upon me, She's faithless—and false to her swain.

With STREPHON she's gone far away— With him is contented and blest, Whilst I am distracted all day, And ruin'd for want of my rest. No heed can I take of my sheep, They ramble and roam as they please, For I can do nothing but weep 'Till PHILLIS my sorrow doth ease.

Dear nymph hear thy shepherd complain, Return and subdue all my care! No longer torment me with pain, For constant I am, I declare. Thy charms ever shall be my pride, Thy smiles I will ever admire; Then deign you to be but my bride, And satisfy all my desire.