When Damon languish'd at my feet,
And I believ'd him true,
The moments of delight how sweet!
But ah! how swift they flew!

The sunny hill, the flowery vale,
The garden and the grove,
Have echo'd to his ardent tale,
And vows of endless love.

The conquest gain'd, he left his prize;
He left her to complain,
To talk of joy with weeping eyes,
And measure time by pain.
But Heav'n will take the mourner's part,
In pity to despair;
And the last sigh that rends the heart
Shall waft the spirit there.