He. Where thou dwellest， in what grove¹，

    Tell me Fair One， tell me Love；

    Where thou thy charming nest dost build，

    O thou pride of every field！

    She. Yonder stands a lonely tree，

    There I live and mourn for thee；

    Morning drinks my silent tear，

    And evening winds my sorrow bear.

    He. O thou summer's harmony，

    I have liv'd and mourn'd for thee；

    Each day I mourn along the wood，

    And night hath heard my sorrows loud.

    She. Dost thou truly long for me？

    And am I thus sweet to thee？

    Sorrow now is at an end，

    O my Lover and my Friend！

    He. Come， on wings of joy we'll fly

    To where my bower² hangs on high；

    Come， and make thy calm retreat

    Among green leaves and blossoms sweet.

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