UPON A FAVOUR OFFERED

by: William Walsh (1663-1708)

AELIA, too late you would repent:

The off'ring all your store

Is not but like a pardon sent

To one that's dead before.

 

While at the first you cruel proved,

And grant the bliss too late,

You hindered me of one I loved

To give me one I hate.

 

I thought you innocent as fair

When first my court I made;

But when your falsehoods plain appear

My love no longer stayed.

 

Your bounty of those favours shown,

Whose worth you first deface,

Is melting valued metals down

And giving us the brass.

 

Oh since the thing we beg's a toy

That's prized by love alone,

Why cannot women grant the joy

Before our love is gone?

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