MYRA.
A CANTATA.
AIR.
Love
frowns in beauteous Myra's Eyes;
Ah, Nymph those cruel Looks give o'er.
While Love is frowning, Beauty dies,
And you can charm no more.
Recitative.
Mark, how when sullen Clouds appear,
And wintry Storms deface the Year,
The prudent Cranes no longer stay,
But take the Wing, and thro' the Air,
From the cold Region fly away,
And far o'er Land and Seas to warmer Climes repair.
Just so, my Heart—But see—Ah no!
She smiles—I will not, cannot go.
AIR.
Love and the Graces smiling,
In Myra's Eyes beguiling,
Again their Charms recover.
Wou'd you secure our Duty,
Let Kindness aid your Beauty,
Ye Fair, to sooth the Lover.
