Skip to main content

Song -

No, no, fair heretic, it needs must be
But an ill love in me,
And worse for thee.

For were it in my power
To love thee now this hour
More than I did the last,
'Twould then so fall
I might not love at all.
Love that can flow, and can admit increase,
Admits as well an ebb, and may grow less.

True love is still the same; the torrid zones
And those more frigid ones,
It must not know;
For love, grown cold or hot,
Is lust or frienship, not
The thing we have;
For that's a flame would die,
Held down or up too high.

Acis and Galatea: An English Pastoral Opera - Act 2

ACT II.

Enter Shepherds .

CHORUS.


CHORUS.
Wretched Lovers, Fate has past
This sad Decree, no Joy shall last,
Wretched Lovers, quit your Dream,
Behold the Monster , Polypheme.
See what ample Strides he takes,
The Mountain nods, the Forest shakes,
The Waves run frighted to the Shores.
Hark! how the thund'ring Giant roars.


POLYPHEMUS.


RECITATIVO.

Of Love

Instruct me now, what love will do;
'Twill make a tongless man to wooe.
Inform me next, what love will do;
'Twill strangely make a one of too.
Teach me besides, what love will do;
'Twill quickly mar, & make ye too.
Tell me, now last, what love will do;
'Twill hurt and heal a heart pierc'd through.

A Sonnet of Perilla

Then did I live when I did see
Perilla smile on none but me.
But (ah!) by starres malignant crost,
The life I got I quickly lost:
But yet a way there doth remaine,
For me embalm'd to live againe;
And that's to love me; in which state
Ile live as one Regenerate.