Where shall a poor, forsaken virgin fly,
To live at ease, or else in peace to die?
To yonder hill I fain would go,
Where sporting lambkins play;
Their innocence may sooth my woe,
And drive my grief away.

O, that I might retire
To some delightful shade,
Where love's pernicious fire
Can ne'er my rest invade.
See, there my Strephon walks along;
To Phyllis he directs his song;
To her alone he does resign
Those vows, those oaths
Which once were mine.