 | The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last |  |
22
SCENE the Last.
To them, Sylvia.AIR.
When from the Lark some Peasant takes
Her nestling Young away,
She pines and hovers round the Place,
Which held her little tuneful Race,
Where all her Comfort lay.
Her nestling Young away,
She pines and hovers round the Place,
Which held her little tuneful Race,
Where all her Comfort lay.
Thus am I doom'd to haunt the Swain,
Who once was all my Joy.
What can avail my pining Grief!
No Gleam of Hope admits Relief:
Ah, cruel, faithless Boy.
Who once was all my Joy.
What can avail my pining Grief!
No Gleam of Hope admits Relief:
Ah, cruel, faithless Boy.
RECITATIVE.
Colin.
Much injur'd Nymph forbear nor tell thy Woes,
Through Sympathy, thy Grief my Bosom knows:
Sylvia, I own I have been much unkind,
False as the Stream, and fickle as the Wind;
But now I'll make Attonement for my Crime,
And fix'd to thee pass my allotted Time.
No more with Tears bedim thy radiant Eyes,
But in thy Face let blooming Pleasure rise:
From Sorrow ev'ry wonted Grace retrieve,
And, with a Smile, thy “faithless Boy” forgive.
Sylvia.
This sudden Change can never be sincere;
'Twere Flatt'ry to believe it so, I fear.
Colin.
Nay doubt me not, I can be false no more,
Indeed, my Sylvia, all my Folly's o'er:
Hearken, my Friend, and witness what I vow,
To-morrow (if the Gods my Life allow)
With this dear Nymph, I will in Wedlock join;
So, Strephon, shall thy Wedding-Day be mine.
Streph.
Heav'n must an Act so generous approve.
Colin.
From them, my Fair, we'll learn to live and love.
Sylvia.
Then Fortune's kind!—Oh, Colin mine at last!
(embracing.)
Colin.
Let dull Remembrance die of what is past.
23
[Colin.]
The Bee, that haunts the fragrant Bow'r,
Extracts the Sweets of ev'ry Flow'r,
And sips an Hundred in an Hour,
But when the Fit is o'er to roam,
Returning to the luscious Comb,
He finds the richest Sweets at Home.
Extracts the Sweets of ev'ry Flow'r,
And sips an Hundred in an Hour,
But when the Fit is o'er to roam,
Returning to the luscious Comb,
He finds the richest Sweets at Home.
Thus did my fickle Fancy stray,
And restless all the live-long Day,
Cou'd never with one Object stay:
Now tir'd at length with being free,
It can no more inconstant be,
But finds all Joy alone in thee.
And restless all the live-long Day,
Cou'd never with one Object stay:
Now tir'd at length with being free,
It can no more inconstant be,
But finds all Joy alone in thee.
Sylvia.
When Night asserts her awful Reign,
No Sylvan Prospects entertain,
While Horror deepens o'er the Plain:
Yet when Aurora darts her Ray,
The Sun dispels the Gloom away,
And Nature smiles, and all is gay.
No Sylvan Prospects entertain,
While Horror deepens o'er the Plain:
Yet when Aurora darts her Ray,
The Sun dispels the Gloom away,
And Nature smiles, and all is gay.
Thus thy returning Flame has chac'd
Despair and Anguish from my Breast,
And all within is Peace and Rest.
The Bliss that Passion can bestow,
The Care-touch'd Soul alone can know;
All Pleasure takes its Rise from Woe.
Despair and Anguish from my Breast,
And all within is Peace and Rest.
The Bliss that Passion can bestow,
The Care-touch'd Soul alone can know;
All Pleasure takes its Rise from Woe.
RECITATIVE.
Streph.
The happiest Mortals we shall be on Earth;
We'll yield the Day that makes us so to Mirth;
And, Colin, while in each revolving Year,
We are indulg'd in viewing it appear,
A jocund Treat to all our Friends we'll give,
And Rural Sports shall crown the blithsome Eve.
Colin.
Strephon, whatever you propose shall be:
My Joys will flow from Delia and from thee.
24
Oh, Marriage! Oh, Marriage! thou heavenly State!
Thy Bonds must be easy, where Rapture's so great;
They ne'er can be bless'd who the Station despise,
In Wedlock alone all true Happiness lies.
| The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last | |