Ô Solitude
Oh solitude my sweetest choice
Oh solitude, Oh solitude, my sweetest sweetest choice
Places devoted, to the night
Remote from tumult and from noise
Now here my restless thoughts delight
Oh solitude, oh solitude, my sweetest sweetest choice
Oh heavens!
What content is mine to see Those trees which have appeared
From the nativity of time
And which all ages have revered to look, today as fresh and green
To look today as fresh and green
As when their beauties first were seen
Oh, how agreeable a sight these hanging, mountains do appear
Which the unhappy would invite
To finish all their sorrows here
When their hard, their hard, fate makes them endure
Such woes, such woes, as only death can cure
Oh, oh, how a solitude adore
Oh, oh, how a solitude adore
That element of noblest wit
Where I have learnt, where I have learnt
That pole-less love without the pains, the pains to study it
For thy sake I in love am grown
With what thy fancy, thy fancy does pursue
But when I think upon mine own
I hate it, I hate it for that reason too
Because it needs must hinder me
From seeing, from seeing
And from, serving thee
Oh solitude, oh, how a solitude adore
Oh solitude, Oh solitude, my sweetest sweetest choice
Places devoted, to the night
Remote from tumult and from noise
Now here my restless thoughts delight
Oh solitude, oh solitude, my sweetest sweetest choice
Oh heavens!
What content is mine to see Those trees which have appeared
From the nativity of time
And which all ages have revered to look, today as fresh and green
To look today as fresh and green
As when their beauties first were seen
Oh, how agreeable a sight these hanging, mountains do appear
Which the unhappy would invite
To finish all their sorrows here
When their hard, their hard, fate makes them endure
Such woes, such woes, as only death can cure
Oh, oh, how a solitude adore
Oh, oh, how a solitude adore
That element of noblest wit
Where I have learnt, where I have learnt
That pole-less love without the pains, the pains to study it
For thy sake I in love am grown
With what thy fancy, thy fancy does pursue
But when I think upon mine own
I hate it, I hate it for that reason too
Because it needs must hinder me
From seeing, from seeing
And from, serving thee
Oh solitude, oh, how a solitude adore
Credits
Writer(s): Olivia Clio Chaney, Henry Purcell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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