Cloe: Singing

No shepherdess of all the plain Like Cloe tunes her charming song; I hear transported ev'ry strain, To Cloe sure the sweetest sounds belong.

Hark! how the warblings of her voice Tremble throughout the silent grove; Melodious echoes round rejoice, Melting my soul to strong impatient love.

Hark!—Philomel has ceas'd his lays To listen to her softer song; The distant swains, attentive, praise The thrilling accents of her tuneful tongue.

Inchanting Music! thou hast power To warm the shepherd's gentle breast, And, when the toiling day is o'er, Give joy and rapture to his ev'ning's rest.