Lydia's Song
Hard is my lot when youth is mine,
And joy should crown each rosy hour,
Within these gloomy walls to pine,
Still fettered by a tyrant's power.
Ye who pity maids like me,
This way bend and set me free!
Must I for ever languish here,
A life of solitude to prove?
No; something whispers in my ear
That I was born for bliss and love.
Ye who pity maids like me,
This way bend and set me free!
And joy should crown each rosy hour,
Within these gloomy walls to pine,
Still fettered by a tyrant's power.
Ye who pity maids like me,
This way bend and set me free!
Must I for ever languish here,
A life of solitude to prove?
No; something whispers in my ear
That I was born for bliss and love.
Ye who pity maids like me,
This way bend and set me free!
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