of all the torments - hubert parry lyrics
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of all the torments, all the cares
with which our lives are curst;
of all the plagues a lover bears
sure rivals are the worst!
by partners of each other kind
afflictions easier grow;
in love we hate to find
companions of our woe
silvia, for all the pangs you see
are laboring in my breast;
i beg not you would favor me
would you but slight the rest
how great so e’er your rigors are
with them alone i’ll cope:
i can endure my own despair
but not another’s hope!
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