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.