Classic Poem

A Cantata

R ECITATIVE

Bright Teraminta cross'd the grove
Attended by a virgin train,
To wed a shepherd of the plain,
Whose wealth had got the upper hand of love.
Her fav'rite swain whom most she priz'd
She pass'd regardless by,
Who, thus forsaken and despis'd,
Did to her seeming scorn reply,

A IR

For trusting a creature
Inconstant by nature
I'm rightly rewarded.
The more we are faithful,
The more they're ungrateful,
The less we're regarded.

R ECIT .

Touch'd by remorse, she left her train,
And caught him in the railing strain;
She turn'd his torments to a jest,
While thus the swain his joy express'd.

A IR

There is no measure
To my pleasure
When thou art in my arms;
To fix thee there
I'd laugh at fear,
And triumph in alarms.