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collin's complaint by nicholas rowe - ghizela rowe lyrics

despairing beside a clear stream
a shepherd forsaken was laid
and, while a false nymph was his theme
a willow supported his head
the wind that blew over the plain
to his sighs with a sigh did reply;
and the brook in return to his pain
ran mournfully murmuring by
alas ! silly swain that i was;
thus sadly complaining he cry’d
when first i beheld that fair face
’twere better by far i had died
she talk’d, and i bless’d her dear tongue;
when she smil’d, ’twas a pleasure too giutt;
i listen’d and cry’d when she sung
was nightingale ever so sweet?
how foolish was i to believe
she could doat on so lowly a clown;
or that her fond heart would not grieve
to forsake the fine folk of the town?
to think that a beauty so gay
so kind and so constant would prove;
or go clad like our maidens in grey
or live in a cottage on love?
what though i have sk!ll to complain
though the muses my temples have crown’d
what though, when they hear my soft strain
the virgins sit weeping around:
ah colin! thy hopes are in vain
thy pipe and thy laurel resign;
thy fair one inclines to a swain
whose music is sweeter than third
all you, my companions so dear
who sorrow to see me betray’d
whatever i suffer, forbear
forbear to accuse the false maid
though through the wide world i should range
’tis in vain from my fortune to fly;
’twas her’s to be false and to change
’tis mine to be constant and die

- ghizela rowe lyrics

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