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<DATE>2008-09-06</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080811.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B01540">
<STC T="W">B1633</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99887040</BIBNO>
<VID>181766</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 2 -->
<HEAD>Beauties Triumph:</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">OR, <HI>The Joys of Faithful Lovers made compleat;</HI></HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<P>Shewing the amorous Addre&s;s of a young Gallant to a fair Virgin, who&s;e con&s;ent, notwith|&s;tanding her many coy objections, &amp; concluded the happy Marriage, under the feign'd names of <HI>Amintor and Silva,</HI> Being a mo&s;t plea&s;ant and delightful New Play-Hou&s;e SONG.</P>
<LG>
<L><HI>All that's call'd Beauty, for Mans u&s;e was made,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Why then &s;hould he of Females be afraid?</HI></L>
<L><HI>Encounter them but brisk, you'l find them yield,</HI></L>
<L><HI>'Tis &s;eldome known they long do keep the Field;</HI></L>
<L><HI>But if you fear to court faith, e'n di&s;pair;</HI></L>
<L><HI>For Cowards never <HI>Cupids</HI> Plunder &s;hare.</HI></L>
</LG>
</ARGUMENT>
<OPENER><HI>To a New Play-Hou&s;e Tune; Or, <HI>The Reward of Loyalty,</HI> &amp;c.</HI></OPENER>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>A</HI> Pox upon this needle&s;s Scorn,</L>
<L><HI>Sylva</HI> for &s;hame the Cheat give o're;</L>
<L>The end to which the fair are Born,</L>
<L>is not to keep their Charms in &s;tore:</L>
<L>But lavi&s;hly di&s;po&s;e in ha&s;te</L>
<L>of joys, which onely youth improve;</L>
<L>Ioys which decay when Beauty's pa&s;t&punc;</L>
<L>and who when Beauty's pa&s;t, will love?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When age tho&s;e Glories &s;hall deface,</L>
<L>revenging all the cold di&s;dain;</L>
<L>And <HI>Sylva</HI> &s;hall neglected pa&s;s</L>
<L>by every one admiring Swain;</L>
<L>And we can onely pitty pay,</L>
<L>when you in Love too late &s;hall burn;</L>
<L>If Love increa&s;e, and Youth decay,</L>
<L>ah! <HI>Sylva,</HI> who will make return?</L>
</LG>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>Then ha&s;te my <HI>Sylva</HI> to the Grove,</L>
<L>where all the &s;weets of <HI>May</HI> con&s;pire</L>
<L>To teach us every art of Love,</L>
<L>and rai&s;e our charms and plea&s;ures higher:</L>
<L>Whil&s;t in each others arms we lye,</L>
<L>clo&s;ely embrac'd on banks of flowers,</L>
<L>The duller World whil&s;t we defie,</L>
<L>Years &s;hall be minutes, ages hours.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Sylva.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Forbear <HI>Amintor</HI> to deceive,</L>
<L>a harmle&s;s Nymph thus to betray;</L>
<L>Could you of Honour me bereave,</L>
<L>your pas&s;ions &s;oon would melt away:</L>
<L>Oh blame not Virgins that are coy,</L>
<L>but that your con&s;tancies we prove;</L>
<L>For if our tru&s;t you once enjoy,</L>
<L>farewel for ever con&s;tant Love.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Our Beauty's like a new blown Ro&s;e,</L>
<L>when &s;ully'd you will ca&s;t away;</L>
<L>And &s;eek out where a fre&s;h one grows,</L>
<L>no more will you our Charms obey.</L>
<L>I blu&s;h to think &s;hou'd I be kind,</L>
<L>how &s;oon I &s;hou'd my fault Repent;</L>
<L>When you uncon&s;tant as the Wind,</L>
<L>wou'd all my new-born joys prevent.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And for &s;ome fairer leave my Love,</L>
<L>&s;lye my imbraces with di&s;dain;</L>
<L>Oh then my &s;ighs wou'd nothing move,</L>
<L>I might regardle&s;s then complain,</L>
<L>Then cea&s;e your &s;uit <HI>Amintor</HI> now,</L>
<L>&s;ay not I'm coy nor yet unkind;</L>
<L>When Man &s;o often breaks his Vow,</L>
<L>and is to change &s;o oft inclin'd.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Amintor.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Thou brighte&s;t form that I adore,</L>
<L>faire&s;t of Creatures &s;ay not &s;o;</L>
<L>My Love &s;hall la&s;t for evermore,</L>
<L>and endle&s;s pas&s;ion &s;till &s;hall flow:</L>
<L>No Beauty &s;hall divide my Love,</L>
<L>to thee it &s;hall be ever &s;ure;</L>
<L>Then ha&s;t we to this plea&s;ant Grove,</L>
<L>to try the Charms that e're endure.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Sylva.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Could I poor harmle&s;s Nymph but tru&s;t</L>
<L>you'd con&s;tant prove, then cou'd I rai&s;e</L>
<L>My pas&s;ion high, and 'twas but ju&s;t,</L>
<L>but then perhaps your Love decays:</L>
<L>While I am like a <HI>Phoenix</HI> fry'd,</L>
<L>in &s;corchings of &s;elf-kindl'd flame;</L>
<L>Yet were I once in Wedlock ty'd,</L>
<L>methinks I'd blu&s;h away my &s;tain.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Amintor.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L><HI>A</HI> thou&s;and ble&s;&s;ings on my Love,</L>
<L>tho&s;e Sacred Bands &s;hall tye us fa&s;t;</L>
<L>Come let it be, and then we'l prove</L>
<L>tho&s;e tran&s;ports that will ever la&s;t.</L>
<L><HI>Sylva.</HI> I yield, I yield, tho' blu&s;hing &s;till,</L>
<L>methinks I dread, but let's preceed;</L>
<L>For once Love conquer &s;hall my will,</L>
<L><HI>Venus</HI> our Nuptials are decreed.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Amintor.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>And <HI>Venus</HI> witne&s;s now we ha&s;te</L>
<L>to pay our Offerings at thy &s;hrine;</L>
<L>No more will we Loves moments wa&s;te,</L>
<L>nor loo&s;e a plea&s;ure that's Divine:</L>
<L>But in each Grove we'l &s;port and play,</L>
<L>and feed our Flocks, while the &s;weet &s;train</L>
<L>Of <HI>Philomelia</HI> clo&s;e the Day,</L>
<L>and calls us to our home again.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<TRAILER>Finis.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed for <HI>P. Brooksby,</HI> at the Golden-<HI>Ball,</HI> in We&s;t-&s;mithfield.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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