Part of Lyric Harmony
(Allegriss)
ye bleak Winds around my head
and sooth my Heart sorroding Care.
Flash round my Brows ye Lightenings red
and blast the Lawrels planted there.
But may the Maid where e'er she be
Think not of my Distress nor me.
May all the Traces of our Love
Be ever blotted from her mind;
May from her Breast my Vows remove,
And no remembrance leave behind:
But may the Maid where - e'er she be
Think not of my Distress nor me.
O! may I ne'er behold her more;
For she has rob'd my Soul of Rest:
Wisdom's assistance is too poor,
To calm the Tempest in my Breast;
But may the Maid where - e'er she be
Think not of my Distress nor me.
Come Death, O! come thou friendly Sleep,
And with my Sorrows lay me low:
And, should the gentle Virgin weep,
Nor sharp, nor lasting be her Woe;
But may the Maid where - e'er she be
Think not of my Distress nor me.