Glee. In the Whim of the Moment
IN THE WHIM OF THE MOMENT .
Come round me and weep, to your hearts take despair:
'Tis a cause that all nature must mourn,
Poor Hylas, of love who from all had a share,
From our wishes for ever is torn.
That Hylas to whom we look'd up for a smile,
As we blessings from heaven would obtain,
Whose form was so faultless, whose tongue knew no guile,
Is gone, and our wishes are vain.
Come round me and weep, to your hearts take despair:
'Tis a cause that all nature must mourn,
Poor Hylas, of love who from all had a share,
From our wishes for ever is torn.
That Hylas to whom we look'd up for a smile,
As we blessings from heaven would obtain,
Whose form was so faultless, whose tongue knew no guile,
Is gone, and our wishes are vain.
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