Catch the Fleeting Delights as they pass

Sung by Miss Brent at Vauxhall Gardens

Happiest of the fair creation,
Are the rural nymph and swain,
Who content with humble station,
Seek no joy beyond the plain.

Can a Lord such charms discover,
Tho' with star and garter drest,
As on sunday, grace my lover,
When the nosegay's in his breast.

While a tale of Love i'm singing,
O'er my cleanly milking pail,
Cowslips all around me springing,
Sweetly paint the golden vale.

Come, my Love, o'er hill and mountain,
Free as air we'll gayly rove,
Cool out thirst by chrystla fountain,
Rest our limbs in shady grove.

Thou shalt tend thy flock with pleasure,
Toil domestic be my part,
While i boast an Empire's treasure,

While spring sheds his odors around,
and the season is youthful and gay,
While the groves with soft music resound,
[...] time as he hastens away.

Catch the fleeting delights as they pass,
To these happy mansions resort.
Live and Love, while you can for alas,
can life be too sweet, when tis short.

Old age like the winter draws near,
His locks hoary frosted with grey.
He lays his cold hand on the yea's,
And all its bright blossom decay.