Amintas, to my grief I see, With what neglect you look on me, How much to love you are inclin'd, Yet slight this heart for you design'd. So have I seen some wretched slave, Whose fortune should have made him crave, Despise the wealth he had in store, And toil at ev'ry mine for more. Celia shall now turn miser too, But 'tis to lay up love for you; To lay up all her tears and sighs, And all her looks, with dying eyes; That when by some inconstant maid You find your pains and heart betray'd, She may put on those pow'rful charms To bring you back to her own arms.
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [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 Henry Purcell (1658/9 - 1695), "Amintas, to my grief I see", Z. 356, published 1679. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 112