Nicholas Rowe

From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel read more

From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks,
Ten thousand little loves and graces spring
To revel in the roses.

Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend,Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behindWith whips and stings.

Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend,Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behindWith whips and stings.

Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind
with whips and stings.

Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind
with whips and stings.

Thou hast prevariated with thy friend,
By underhand contrivances undone me:
And while my open nature trusted read more

Thou hast prevariated with thy friend,
By underhand contrivances undone me:
And while my open nature trusted in thee,
Thou hast stept in between me and my hopes,
And ravish'd from me all my soul held dear.
Thou hast betray'd me.

When our old Pleasures die,
Some new One still is nigh;
Oh! fair Variety!

When our old Pleasures die,
Some new One still is nigh;
Oh! fair Variety!