Hear Me But Once. (French Air.)

Hear me but once, while o'er the grave, In which our Love lies cold and dead, I count each flattering hope he gave Of joys now lost and charms now fled. Who could have thought the smile he wore When first we met would fade away? Or that a chill would e'er come o'er Those eyes so bright thro' many a day? Hear me but once, etc.