save in these arms of thine, love.
o wert thou, &c.
cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part,
to poison fortune's ruthless dart—
let me not break thy faithful heart,
and say that fate is mine, love.
o wert thou, &c.
but, dreary tho' the moments fleet,
o let me think we yet shall meet;
that only ray of solace sweet,
can on thy chloris shine, love!
o wert thou, &c.