S O N G I
Tune, Over the hills and far away.
I.
COME see, my dear, the day is clear;
The sun has chas'd the snow away;
The Spring doth in her robes appear,
Come, welcome the sweet month of May.
CHORUS.
Pray think how short is here thy stay,
Pray think how short is here thy stay,
In midst of all thy joys and sweets,
Tho may'st be call'd and must obey.
II.
Thy face, an emblem of the rose;
Thou soar'st above the vernal train;
Thy ev'ry action sweets disclose;
Pray, teach me how those sweets to gain.
Pray think, &c.
III.
Thy charms each one they do me please;
Thy wit and sense are much refin'd;
Thou speak'st with unaffected ease,
Which tells the pureness of thy mind.
Pray think, &c.
IV.
Though now thou shin'st in youthful bloom;
Yet all thy charms must yield to Fate;
Thy beauties wither must in time,
May-be no great distant date.
Pray think, &c.
V.
The night that ends the lightest day
Doth tell thy time must go apace;
By Nature's course thou can't here stay,
Grim Death at last must take its place.
Pray think, &c.
VI.
May'st thou live long each joy to share,
Well guarded from all ills below,
And still be under Hymen's care,
Who hath rich blessings to bestow.
Pray think, &c.
VII.
When Time shall finish out thy days,
And call thee home from this vain place,
May Angels guard thee on those ways,
Where thou may'st rest in endless peace.
Pray think how short is here
thy stay,
Pray think how short is here thy stay,
In midst of all thy joys and sweets,
Tho may'st be call'd and must obey.