Song: In Vain, Alas! Poor Strephon Tries

IN vain, alas ! poor Strephon tries
To ease his tortur'd breast ;
Since Amoret the cure denies.
And makes his pain a jest.
Ah ! fair-one, why to me so coy ?
And why to him so true.
Who with more coldness slights the joy,
Than I with love pursue ?
Die then, unhappy lover ! die ;
For, since she gives thee death.
The world has nothing that can buy
A minute more of breath.
Yet, though I could your scorn outlive,
'Twere folly ; since to me
Not love itself a joy can give.
But, Amoret, in thee.