Song.

SONG.

WHenever, Chloe, I begin Your heart like mine to move, You tell me of the crying sin Of unchaste lawless love.

How can that passion be a sin, Which gave to Chloe birth? How can those joys but be divine, Which make a heaven on earth?

To wed, mankind the priest trepann'd, By some sly fallacy, And disobey'd God's great command, Increase and multiply.

You say that love's a crime; content: Yet this allow you must, More joy's in heav'n if one repent, Than over ninety just.

Sin then, dear girl, for heaven's sake, Repent and be forgiven; Bless me, and by repentance make A holy day in heav'n.