Yes, I'm in love, I feel it now, And Celia has undone me; And yet I'll swear, I can't tell how, The pleasing plague stole on me. 'Tis not her face that love creates, For there no graces revel; 'Tis not her shape, For there the Fates have rather been uncivil. 'Tis not her air, for sure in that There's nothing more than common; And all her sense is only chat, Like any other woman. Her voice, her touch, might give th' alarm; 'Tis both, perhaps, or neither; In short, 'tis that provoking charm Of Celia all together!
About the headline (FAQ)
- by William Whitehead (1715 - 1785) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Thomas Augustine Arne (1710 - 1778), "The plague of love", alternate title: "The tout-ensemble" [text verified 1 time]
- by Michael (Dewar) Head (1900 - 1976), "The plague of love", note: adapted from the song by Arne. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]