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EBBA 36187

Chetham's Library - Halliwell-Phillipps
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A BALLAD by Mr. Carey

Tho Cruel you seem to my Pain
and hate me because I am true,
yet Phillis you Love a false Swain,
who has other Nymphs in his view;
Enjoyments a Trifle to him,
to me what a Heav'n would it be,
to him but a Woman you seem,
but ah you're an Angel to me.

Those lips, which he touches in haste,
To them I forever could grow,
Still Clinging arround that dear waste,
Which he Spans as beside him you go,
That hand like a Lilly so white,
Which over his Shoulders you lay,
My bosome could warm it all night,
My Lips they could press it all day.

Where I like a Monarch to reign,
Where Graces my Subjects to be,
I'd leave e'm and fly to the Plain,
To dwell in a Cottage with thee,
But If I must feel your disdain,
If Tears cannot Cruelty drown,
O let me not live in this Pain,
But give me my Death in a Frown.

for the FLUTE.
Sold only by D Wright next door to the Sun Tavern near Holborn bars London

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