Where shall the lover rest,
Whom the fates sever
From his true maiden's breast, 150
Parted for ever?
Where, through groves deep and high,
Sounds the far billow,
Where early violets die,
Under the willow. 155
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.
There, through the summer day,
Cool streams are laving;
There, while the tempests sway,
Scarce are boughs waving; 160
There, thy rest shalt thou take,
Parted for ever,
Never again to wake,
Never, O never!
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never! 165