Ah! Cruel, bloody fate,
What can'st thou now do more?
Alas! tis now too late
Philander to restore.

Why should the heav'nly powers persuade
Poor mortals to believe
That they guard us here
or reward us there
Yet all our joys deceive?

Her poinyard then she took,
And held it in her hand,
And with a dying look
Cried: Thus I fate command

Philander, ah! My love I come
To meet thy shade below
I come,' she cried:
With a wound so wide,
There needs no second blow.'

In purple waves her blood
Ran streaming down the floor,
Unmov'd she saw the flood,
And blest the dying hour

Philander, ah Philander!' still
The bleeding Phillis cried,
She wept awhile
And she forc'd a smile,
Then clos'd her eyes and died.