The Struggle

THE STRUGGLE

A Thousand sighs that bursting rise, Bid Strephon here remain, Yet Sally cried, with woman's pride, Oh ne'er return again.

Awhile to stand, and take her hand, Besought the blooming swain; Away she flies, and thus replies, Oh ne'er return again.

O speak the truth, nor scorn the youth, These struggles are in vain; He goes away, now can you say, Oh ne'er return again.

How dark's the night, he's out of sight, Unheard I'll breath my pain; Ye zephyrs sigh, although I die, Oh ne'er return again.

Nor e'er reveal how much I feel, In forcing this disdain; Tho' death should tell I lov'd thee well, Oh ne'er return again.

This wounded heart, that bleeds to part, Was never us'd to feign; Unmov'd you go, then never know, Oh ne'er return again.