Wrap't in the evening's soft and pensive…

Wrap't in the evening's soft and pensive shade, When passing zephyrs scarce the herbage moves; Here waits a trembling, fond, and anxious maid, Expecting to behold the youth she loves. Tho' Philomela on a neighbouring tree, Melodious warbles forth her nightly strain; Thy accents would be sweeter far to me, Would from my bosom banish doubt and pain.

Then come dear youth, come haste away, Haste to this silent grove, The signal's given, you must obey, 'Tis liberty and love.