Celia has a thousand charms:
'Tis heaven within her arms.
While I stand gazing on her face
Some new and some resistless Grace
Fills with fresh magic all the place.
But while the nymph I thus adore,
I should my wretched fate deplore.
But, oh, Mirtillo, have a care,
Her sweetness is beyond compare.
But then she's false as well as fair.
Have a care, Mirtillo, have a care.
Cold Song
Cold Song
Cold Song
Cold Song
A Prince Of Glorious Race Descended
A Prince Of Glorious Race Descended
Fairest Isle
Fairest Isle
Sound The Trumpet
Here The Deities Approve
When I Am Laid In Earth (Dido's Lament)
Here The Deities Approve
When I Am Laid In Earth (Dido's Lament)
The Honour Of a Jubilee
The Honour Of a Jubilee
Bid The Virtues
Bid The Virtues
Wake, Wake, Quivera (The Indian Queen)
Wake, Wake, Quivera (The Indian Queen)
These Are The Sacred Charms