HARK Lovers, hark, and I shall tell A wonder that will please you well; She, whom I lov'd as my own heart, For whom I sigh'd and suffer'd smart; Whom I above the world admir'd: When I approach'd, who still retir'd: Was so reserv'd, but yet so fair, An angel to what others are: Herself from Love escapes not free. The man belov'd? 'Tis happy I am He. |