The Result of Loving

Caeli is cruel; Silvia, Thou,
I must confess, art kind;
But in her Cruelty, I vow,
I more repose can find:
For O thy Fancy at all Game does fly,
Fond of Address, and willing to comply.

Thus he that loves must be undone;
Each way on Rocks we fall:
Either you will be kind to none,
Or worse, be kind to all.
Vain are our Hopes, and endless is our Care;
We must be Jealous, or we must despair.