How pleasant is love,
When forbid or unknown;
Was my passion approved,
It would quickly be gone.

It adds to the charms
When we steal the delight;
Why should love be exposed?
Since herself has no sight?

In some sylvan shade,
Let me sigh for my lover,
Where none but an echo,
Will speak of again.

Thus silent and soft,
I'll pass the time on,
And when i grow weary,
I'll make my love known.