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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Songs Set To Music: 22. Set By Mr. De Fesch</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In vain, alas! poor Strephon tries<br>To ease his tortured breast,<br>Since Amoret the cure denies, <br>And makes his pain a jest.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ah! fair one, why to me so coy,<br>And why to him so true?<br>Who with more coldness slights the joy<br>Than I with love pursue.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Die, then, unhappy lover, die;<br>For since she gives thee death,<br>The world has nothing that can buy <br>A minute more of breath.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457190" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Yet though I could your scorn outlive,<br>'Twere folly, since to me<br>Not love itself a joy can give,<br>But, Amoret, in thee.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a></strong></div>

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