Go tell Amynta, gentle swain, I would not die, nor dare complain. Thy tuneful voice with numbers join, Thy voice will more prevail than mine; For souls opprest and dumb with grief, The gods ordain'd this kind relief. That music should in sounds convey What dying lovers dare not say. A sigh or tear perhaps she'll give, But love on pity cannot live: Tell her that hearts for hearts were made, And love with love is only paid, Tell her my pains so fast increase That soon it will be past redress; For the wretch that speechless lies, Attends but death to close his eyes.
- by John Dryden (1631 - 1700) [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):
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: 105