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AMYNTAS.
CHORUS.
I.
I'll not dispute thy providence, O Love;
Perhaps Amyntas was thy constant care;
And doomed by thee sublimer bliss to prove,
By disappointment, anguish, and despair.
I'll not dispute thy providence, O Love;
Perhaps Amyntas was thy constant care;
And doomed by thee sublimer bliss to prove,
By disappointment, anguish, and despair.
II.
But never let such pains my life annoy,
Propitious sovereign of the golden bow!
Give it no bitterly contrasted joy;
But in a gentle tenor let it flow.
But never let such pains my life annoy,
Propitious sovereign of the golden bow!
Give it no bitterly contrasted joy;
But in a gentle tenor let it flow.
III.
To thee let men of more romantick strain,
For poignant pleasure, dearly bought, apply;
Calmer fruition to thy votary deign;
For no knight-errant in thy realms am I.
To thee let men of more romantick strain,
For poignant pleasure, dearly bought, apply;
Calmer fruition to thy votary deign;
For no knight-errant in thy realms am I.
Yet
