
matthew prior: song - peter o'shaughnessy lyrics lyrics
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the merchant, to secure his treasure
conveys it in a borrow’d name:
euphelia serves to grace my measure;
but chloe is my real flame
my softest verse, my darling lyre
upon euphelia’s toilet lay;
when chloe noted her desire
that i should sing, that i should play
my lyre i tune, my voice i raise;
but with my numbers mix my sighs:
and while i sing euphelia’s praise
i fix my soul on chloe’s eyes
fair chloe blush’d: euphelia frown’d:
i sung, and gazed: i play’d, and trembled:
and venus to the loves around
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