Blow on ye winds, descend soft rain

Blow on ye winds, descend soft rain, To soothe my tender grief, Your solemn music lulls my pain, And yields a short relief.

O my heart, my heavy, heavy heart, Swells as 'twould burst in twain; No tongue can e'er describe the smart, Nor I conceal its pain.

The sun, which makes all nature gay, Torments my weary eyes; And in dark shades I pass the day, Where echo sleeping lies. O my heart, &c.

The strongest passions of the mind, The greatest bliss we know, Arises from successful love, If not the greatest woe. O my heart, &c.