The Happy Husband. a Song

Where the gentle spring was flowing, Whilst the primrose pale was growing, Every morn I told my tale To fair Padella of the vale.

And whilst with artless notes I play'd, Beneath the friendly noontide shade, Padella oft wou'd join with me, In sweetest notes of melody.

Too short the longest day appear'd, Whilst fair Padella's voice I heard, Too long appear'd the shortest night, When e'er the nymph was from my sight.

But now Padella is my bride, Nor night nor day shall now divide, Nothing but death's resistless dart, Shall force us ever more to part.