Volume 5 — The Apparition to the Jilted Lover. Set by Mr. Wroth.
Reading edition
[Listen]
THINK wretched Mortal, think no more, How to prolong thy Breath: For thee there are no Joys in store, But in a welcome Death: Then seek to lay thee under Ground, The Grave cures all Despair; And healeth every bitter Wound, Giv’n by th’ ungrateful Fair. How cou’dst thou Faith in Woman think, Women are Syrens all; And when Men in Loves Ocean sink, Take Pride to see ’em fall: Women were never real yet, But always truth despise: Constant to nothing but Deceit, False Oaths and flattering Lies. Ah! Coridon bid Life adieu, The Gods will thee prefer; Their Gates are open’d wide for you, But bolted against her: Do thou be true, you vow’d to Love, Phillis or Death you’ll have; Now since the Nymph doth perjured prove, Be just unto the Grave.
