When Sable night, each drooping plant restoring,
Wept o'er the flow'rs, his breath did cheer.
As some sad Wid'wer o'er his babe deploring,
Wakes its beauty with a tear.
When all did sleep whose weary hearts cou'd borrow
One hour, from love and care to rest.
Lo! as I press'd my Couch in silent sorrow
My Lover, caught me to his breast.
He vow'd he came to save me,
From those that wou'd enslave me,
Endless faith he swore,
But soon I chid him thence,
For had his fond pretense,
Found favour then,
And he had press'd again,
I fear'd in my heart I might grant him more.