A Song


Farewell , fair Armeda, my joy and my grief;
In vain I have lov'd you, and find no relief;
Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe,
Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair.
Now call'd by my honor, I seek with content
A fate which in pity you would not prevent:
To languish in love, were to find by delay
A death that's more welcome the speediest way.


On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire,
The danger is less than in hopeless desire;
My death's wound you gave me, tho' far off I bear
My fate from your sight, not to cost you a tear.
But if the kind flood on a wave should convey,
And under your window my body should lay,
The wound on my breast when you happen to see,
You'll say with a sigh: " It was given by me. "
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