Chorus.
Alma is dead! Alma the fair!—
By love of Ferdinand whelmed in his fate.—
Lament her, O lament.
(1.) Joy of our heavy prison; Ch. Rescued too late—
Beauty too fair. (1.) Ah! surely in earth’s prison....
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Ch. A mortal as immortal made—
O unforeseen her end! Lament, lament!
(1.) Our woe is a storm, our hope the fringe of a shade,