The birds

He.

Where thou dwellest, in what grove,

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 bower hangs on high;

Come, and make thy calm retreat

Among green leaves and blossoms sweet.