Since from my dear
My dear, my dear
Since from my dear
My dear, my dear
My dear, my dear Astrea’s sight
I was so ru...udely torn
My soul has never, never never
Has never, never never known delight
Unless it were to mourn
To mourn, unless
Unless it were to mourn

Since from my dear
My dear, my dear
Since from my dear
My dear, my dear
My dear, my dear Astrea’s sight
I was so ru...udely torn
My soul has never, never never
Has never, never never known delight
Unless it were to mourn
To mourn, unless
Unless it were to mourn

But oh! alas, alas
With weeping eyes
And bleeding, bleeding heart I lie
Thinking on her
On her, whose absence ‘tis
That makes me wish to
Die, die, die, die
Makes me, makes me wish to
Die, die, die

[ Thomas Betterton ]


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Since from my dear Astrea’s sight
I was so rudely torn
My soul has never known delight
Unless it were to mourn

But oh! alas, with weeping eyes
And bleeding heart I lie;
Thinking on her, whose absence ‘tis
That makes me wish to die


[ Thomas Betterton ]
[ Original text ]