Song
Ah stay! ah turn! ah, whither would you fly,
Too charming, too relentless Maid?
I follow not to Conquer, but to Die;
You of the fearful are afraid.
In vain I call; for she like fleeting Air,
When prest by some tempestuous Wind,
Flies swifter from the Voice of my Despair,
Nor casts one pitying Look behind.
Too charming, too relentless Maid?
I follow not to Conquer, but to Die;
You of the fearful are afraid.
In vain I call; for she like fleeting Air,
When prest by some tempestuous Wind,
Flies swifter from the Voice of my Despair,
Nor casts one pitying Look behind.
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