"OH! what hath caus'd my killing miferies ?" "EYES," Echo said. "What hath detain'd my ease?” "EASE," ftraight the reasonable nymph replies. "That nothing can my troubled mind appease ?” "PEACE," Echo anfwers. "What, is any nigh?" "Philetus faid, fhe quickly utters, " I." II. "Is 't Echo answers? tell me then thy will:" "I WILL," the faid, "What fhall I get," fays he, "By loving ftill?" To which the answers," ILL.” "Ill! Shall I void of wish'd-for pleasures die " "I." "Shall not I, who toil in ceaseless pain, "Some pleasure know?" No," the replies again. III. "Falfe and inconftant nymph, thou lyeft!" said he; "THOU LYEST,” she said; "And I deferv'd her hate, "If I fhould thee believe." "BELIEVE," faith fhe. "For why? thy idle words are of no weight." "WEIGHT," she anfwers. "Therefore I 'll depart.” To which refounding Echo answers, "PART." THEN from the woods with wounded heart he goes, No morning-banish'd darkness, nor black night At Cupid's altars did not weep and pray ; But now at last the pitying God, o'ercome A fuppliant to Love, that with like dart He'd wound Philetus; does with tears implore Little she thinks fhe kept Philetus' heart And a like measure in their torments have : His foul, his griefs, his fires, now her's are grown: Whilft thoughts 'gainst thoughts rife up in mutiny, Thus had she sung when her dear love was flain, THE THE SONG. I. To whom shall I my forrows show? The inward torment of my mind. II. For, if they could, they fure would weep, Till I from earth am fent. Then I believe they 'll all deplore I willingly would weep my store, If th' flood would land thy love, Of my heart; but, should'st thou prove THEN tears in envy of her speech did flow Which, Nilus-like, did quickly overflow, Here ftay, my Mufe; for if I fhould recite Might, by this means, his bright Conftantia view; Thus to himself, footh'd by his flattering state, He said; "How shall I thank thee for this gain, "O Cupid! or reward my helping fate, "Which sweetens all my forrows, all my pain? "What husbandman would any pains refufe, "To reap at last fuch fruit, his labour's ufe ?" But, when he wifely weigh'd his doubtful state, Seeing his griefs link'd like an endless chain To following woes, he would when 'twas too late Quench his hot flames, and idle love disdain. But Cupid, when his heart was fet on fire, The wounded youth and kind Philocrates And in that league fo ftrictly joined were, If one be melancholy, th' other's fad; Pylades' foul, and mad Oreftes', was Oft in the woods Philetus walks, and there The crystal brooks, which gently run between Hearing Philetus tell his woeful state, Philomel anfwers him again, and shews, Conftantia he, the Tereus, Tereus, cries ; Philocrates muft needs his fadnefs know, Willing in ills, as well as joys, to fhare, Nor will on them the name of friends bestow, Who leaves to guide the fhip when storms arise, |