A SONG.
Reading edition
I. While on those lovely Looks I gaze, To see a Wretch pursuing; In Raptures of a blest Amaze, His pleasing happy Ruin; ’Tis not for pity that I move; His Fate is to aspiring, Whose Heart, broke with a Load of Love, Dies wishing and admiring. II. But if this Murder you’d forego, Your Slave from Death removing; Let me your Art of Charming know, Or learn you mine of loving. But whether Life, or Death, betide, In Love it’s equal Measure, The Victor lives with empty Pride; The Vanquish’d die with Pleasure.