 | The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last |  |
SCENE V.
STREPHON.AIR.
Grant, Reason, thou unerring Guide!
An am'rous Youth thy Aid,
Nor let me sink beneath the Pride,
Of a too-beauteous Maid.
An am'rous Youth thy Aid,
Nor let me sink beneath the Pride,
Of a too-beauteous Maid.
How simple he who, to possess,
To Grief for Succour flies;
That Love which Sighs and Tears express,
The Nymphs of Sense despise.
To Grief for Succour flies;
That Love which Sighs and Tears express,
The Nymphs of Sense despise.
Ye ruling Pow'rs! who form'd the Fair,
Shou'd Delia ne'er be mine,
Let but a Glimpse of Hope appear,
And I will not repine.
Shou'd Delia ne'er be mine,
Let but a Glimpse of Hope appear,
And I will not repine.
But if I happier Fate shall see,
To sooth these soft Alarms,
When e'er it suits your just Decree,
O, bless my longing Arms!
To sooth these soft Alarms,
When e'er it suits your just Decree,
O, bless my longing Arms!
| The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last | |