Beware, poor shepherds

Beware, poor shepherds! all beware,

Beware of Lelia's arts,

Whose ev'ry word contains a snare,

Her eyes a thousand darts.

She'll hear and entertain your vows,

And give you hopes of bliss;

Nay, swear she loves, confirm the oath,

And seal it with a kiss.

But when the woeful circumstance

Proclaims the conquest sure,

Too late you'll curse the fatal chance,

Too soon th'effect endure.

I that once thought myself her care

Now hopeless must complain;

Learn, therefore, to shun the snare,

By thinking on my pain.