Irish widow/From Clime to Clime

FROM CLIME TO CLIME.

FRom clime to clime my heart does rove,
Smell ev'ry ſweet, yet dares not love:
Smell ev'ry ſweet, &c.
With wanton beauty often ſir'd,
But ah! how vain whene'er admir'd,
But ah! how vain, &c.

I ſing and toy with every art,
Invade the tender virgins heart; Invade, &c.
In gentle murmurs tell my pain,
But tears are idle, vows are vain. But, &c.

Ye Gods am I the man alone
Of love and beauty doom'd to ſcorn, &c.
Muſt fordid gold the mind controul,
Enſlave the will and bribe the ſoul? &c.

With ſtricteſt ſeorn I'll brave the ſex,
And ne'er with love my heart perplex, &c.
'Till Cupid ſends ſome generous fair,
To eaſe my grief and end my care. &c.

As thus the penſive Sylvan ſtood,
And ſighing view'd the reſſuent flood, &c.
The Tritons gaz'd to hear him mourn,
And thus reply'd from vocal horn: &c.

Forbear dear youth, the plaintive ſong,
Nor blindly cenſure fate with wrong, &c.
'Tis fickle Strephon coldly flies,
And conſtant Amarillis dies. &c.