Parthenia for Her Slain Argalus

See thy Parthenia stands
Here to receive thy last Commands,
Say quickly, say, for fear
Grief ere thou speaks, make me not hear.
Alas, as well I may
Call to Flowers wither'd Yesterday.
His Beauties, O th' are gone;
His thousand Graces none.
This O ye Gods, is this the due
Ye pay to Men more just than you?
O dye Parthenia , Nothing now remains
Of all thy Argalus , but his Wounds and Stains.

Too late, I now recall,
The Gods foretold me this thy fall;
I grasp'd thee in my Dream,
And loe thou meltd'st into a Stream;
But when They will surprise,
They shew the Fate, and blind the Eyes.
Which Wound shall I first kiss?
Here? there? or that? or this?
Why gave he not the like to me,
That Wound by Wound might answer'd be?
We would have joyntly bled, by Griefs ally'd,
And drank each other's Soul, and so have dy'd.

In silent Groves below
Thy bleeding Wounds thou now dost shew;
And there perhaps to Fame
Deliver'st up Parthenia 's Name;
Nor do thy Loves abate.
O Gods! O Stars! O Death! O Fate!
But thy Proud Spoyler here
Doth thy snatch'd Glories wear;
And big with undeserv'd success
Swels up his Acts, and thinks Fame less;
And counts my Groans not worthy of Relief,
O Hate! O Anger! O Revenge! O Grief!

Parthenia then shall live,
And something to thy Story give.
Revenge inflame my Breast
To send thy wand'ring Spirit rest.
By our fast Tye, our Trust,
Our one Mind, our one Faith I must:
By my past Hopes and Fears,
My Passions, and my Tears;
By these thy Wounds (my Wounds) I vow,
And by thy Ghost, my Griefe's God now,
I'l not revoke a Thought. Or to thy Tomb
My Off'ring He, or I his Crime will come.
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