Part of Lyric Harmony
(recitative)
As o'er the Flow'ry Meads I pass,
Where Nature spreads the Verdant Grass,
And Daisies intermingled stray,
If Sylvio chance to cross the plain,
These saintly Beauties rise in vain,
His presence only makes ye May
(Andante)
O Love thou bitter Foe to rest,
Who hast within this harmless Breast
So home the sick'ning Arrow sent;
Relieve a poor unwary Maid,
Who fondly Gazeing was betray'd,
Nor knew what self delusion meant,
Since Custom, cruel to Fair,
Forbids my Passion to declare,
Assist, blind God of soft desires,
To thy Omnipotence I kneel,
Let him my ssecret Anguish feel,
And burn for me with equal Fire.
Then, if the lovely Youth appear
By turns inclin'd to Hope and Fear,
And tenderly his Passion move;
My Heart shall flutter to his Sighs,
With gentle looks I'll meet his Eyes,
And never - never cease to love.