’Twas taught by Lavinia’s smile
In the mirth-loving chorus to join:
Ah me! how unweeting the while!
Lavinia——cannot be mine!
Another, more happy, the maid
By fortune is destin’d to bless——
Tho’ the hope has forsook that betray’d,
Yet why shou’d I love her the less!
Her beauties are bright as the morn,
With rapture I counted them o’er;