Beauties Triumph:
OR,
The Joys of Faithful Lovers made compleat;
Shewing the amorous Address of a young Gallant to a fair Virgin, whose consent, notwithÂstanding her many coy objections, & concluded the happy Marriage, under the feign'd names of Amintor and Silva, Being a most pleasant and delightful New Play-House SONG.
All that's call'd Beauty, for Mans use was made,
Why then should he of Females be afraid?
Encounter them but brisk, you'l find them yield,
'Tis seldome known they long do keep the Field;
But if you fear to court faith, e'n dispair;
For Cowards never
Cupids Plunder share.
To a New Play-House Tune; Or,
The Reward of Loyalty, &c.
A Pox upon this needless Scorn,
Sylva for shame the Cheat give o're;
The end to which the fair are Born,
is not to keep their Charms in store:
But lavishly dispose in haste
of joys, which onely youth improve;
Ioys which decay when Beauty's pastâ–ª
and who when Beauty's past, will love?
When age those Glories shall deface,
revenging all the cold disdain;
And
Sylva shall neglected pass
by every one admiring Swain;
And we can onely pitty pay,
when you in Love too late shall burn;
If Love increase, and Youth decay,
ah!
Sylva, who will make return?
Then haste my
Sylva to the Grove,
where all the sweets of
May conspire
To teach us every art of Love,
and raise our charms and pleasures higher:
Whilst in each others arms we lye,
closely embrac'd on banks of flowers,
The duller World whilst we defie,
Years shall be minutes, ages hours.
Sylva.
Forbear
Amintor to deceive,
a harmless Nymph thus to betray;
Could you of Honour me bereave,
your passions soon would melt away:
Oh blame not Virgins that are coy,
but that your constancies we prove;
For if our trust you once enjoy,
farewel for ever constant Love.
Our Beauty's like a new blown Rose,
when sully'd you will cast away;
And seek out where a fresh one grows,
no more will you our Charms obey.
I blush to think shou'd I be kind,
how soon I shou'd my fault Repent;
When you unconstant as the Wind,
wou'd all my new-born joys prevent.
And for some fairer leave my Love,
slye my imbraces with disdain;
Oh then my sighs wou'd nothing move,
I might regardless then complain,
Then cease your suit
Amintor now,
say not I'm coy nor yet unkind;
When Man so often breaks his Vow,
and is to change so oft inclin'd.
Amintor.
Thou brightest form that I adore,
fairest of Creatures say not so;
My Love shall last for evermore,
and endless passion still shall flow:
No Beauty shall divide my Love,
to thee it shall be ever sure;
Then hast we to this pleasant Grove,
to try the Charms that e're endure.
Sylva.
Could I poor harmless Nymph but trust
you'd constant prove, then cou'd I raise
My passion high, and 'twas but just,
but then perhaps your Love decays:
While I am like a
Phoenix fry'd,
in scorchings of self-kindl'd flame;
Yet were I once in Wedlock ty'd,
methinks I'd blush away my stain.
Amintor.
A thousand blessings on my Love,
those Sacred Bands shall tye us fast;
Come let it be, and then we'l prove
those transports that will ever last.
Sylva. I yield, I yield, tho' blushing still,
methinks I dread, but let's preceed;
For once Love conquer shall my will,
Venus our Nuptials are decreed.
Amintor.
And
Venus witness now we haste
to pay our Offerings at thy shrine;
No more will we Loves moments waste,
nor loose a pleasure that's Divine:
But in each Grove we'l sport and play,
and feed our Flocks, while the sweet strain
Of
Philomelia close the Day,
and calls us to our home again.
Finis.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden- Ball, in West-smithfield.