On Chloris being ill

Long, long the night,Heavy comes the morrow,While my soul's delightIs on her bed of sorrow.

Can I cease to care,Can I cease to languish,While my darling fairIs on the couch of anguish?Long, &c.

Every hope is fled,Every fear is terror;Slumber e'en I dread,Every dream is horror.Long, &c.

Hear me, Pow'rs divine!Oh, in pity hear me!Take aught else of mine,But my Chloris spare me!Long, &c.