Henry Purcell
O solitude, my sweetest choice
O solitude, my sweetest choice:
Places devoted to the night
Remote from tumult and from noise
How ye my restless thoughts delight!
O solitude, my sweetest choice
O heav'ns, what content is mine
To see these trees, which have appear'd
From the nativity of time
And which all ages have rever'd
To look today as fresh and green
As when their beauties first were seen
O, how agreeable a sight
These hanging mountains do appear
Which th' unhappy would invite
To finish all thеir sorrows here
When thеir hard fate makes them endure
Such woes as only death can cure