TESTO DEL LIED

"Cantata II: Tell me, ye brooks"
di anonimo

Tell me, ye brooks, where can my darling hide?
O! lead me to him, as ye gently glide.
In yon dark bower does he soft slumb'ring lay,
And there the tribute to your murmurs pay?
In vain, to find him I implore your aid,
And tell my longings to your bending shade;
His deep-hid covert you must ne'er disclose,
Whence now he spies me and derides my woes.
When night draws off, from me the charmer flies;
In vain I call him, still he mocks my sighs;
He flies! At random I these words employ:
My soul's delight may be a wingless boy.
Fruitless for him your mossy banks I trace,
And sweetly tortured, rove from place to place.
In grotts alone, he's kind as Love can be.
Thus, what I doat on, I must never, never see.