A
SONG
.
How
pleasant
is
Love
,
When
forbid
or
unknown
;
Was
my
Passion
approv'd
,
It
would
quickly
be
gone
.
It
adds
to
the
Charms
,
When
we
steal
the
Delight
;
Why
should
Love
be
expos'd
?
Since
himself
has
no
Sight
.
In
some
Silvan
Shade
,
Let
me
sigh
for
my
Swain
;
Where
none
but
an
Eccho
,
Will
speak
on't
again
.
Thus
silent
and
soft
,
I'll
pass
the
Time
on
;
And
when
I
grow
weary
,
I'll
make
my
Love
known
.