⁠Thou opest, and sorrow seals!
How fair the very show of grief
⁠Itself in thee reveals!

Insensate! how I wildly thought
⁠My bitter griefs would gain
Some ease, if thou wert also taught
⁠A portion of my pain!
Pardon the error that deceived,
⁠O, Sylvia! I implore;
Me more thy sorrow now has grieved,
⁠Than thy disdain before.

My bliss! I pray no more to swerve!
⁠Calm those heart-breaking pains:
Thy grief to have, does not deserve
⁠All that the world contains.
May all life's hours, in calm serene,
⁠Be ever pass'd by thee;
And all that darker intervene
⁠Reserved alone for me!

For me, whose lonely wretched doom
⁠By heaven has been decreed.
To bear fate's cruelty and gloom,