FOrsaken of my kindly Stars,
Within this melancholy Grove
I waste my Days and Nights in Tears,
A Victim to ungrateful Love.
The happy still untimely end,
Death flies from Grief, or why should I
So many Hours in Sorrow spend,
Wishing, alas! in vain to die?
Ye Pow'rs! take Pity of my Pain,
Thus, only this, is my Desire;

Ah! take from Myra her Disdain,
Or let me with this Sigh expire.