Air—“Deil tak the wars.”
Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion
Round the wealthy, titled bride:
But when compar’d with real passion,
Poor is all that princely pride.
Mark yonder, &c. (four lines repeated).
What are the showy treasures,
What are the noisy pleasures?
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art:
The polish’d jewels’ blaze
May draw the wond’ring gaze;
And courtly grandeur bright
The fancy may delight,
But never, never can come near the heart.
But did you see my dearest Chloris,
In simplicity’s array;
Lovely as yonder sweet opening flower is,
Shrinking from the gaze of day,
But did you see, &c.