A SONG. In vain You tell your parting Lover, You wish fair Winds may waft Him over. Alas! what Winds can happy prove, That bear Me far from what I love? Alas! what Dangers on the Main Can equal Those that I sustain, From slighted Vows, and cold Disdain? Be gentle, and in Pity choose To wish the wildest Tempests loose: That thrown again upon the Coast, Where first my Shipwrackt Heart was lost, I may once more repeat my Pain; Once more in dying Notes complain Of slighted Vows, and cold Disdain.