Shall charm us then no more.

Then up, ye lads and lasses gay!
The spring of life is fair;
Cloud not these hours with care,
For love must win the day.



_First Entry of the_ BALLET.

2ND MOORISH WOMAN.
They bid us love, they bid us woo,
Why seek delay?
To tender sighs and kisses too
In youth's fair day,
Our hearts are but too true.

The sweetest charms has Cupid's spell.
No sooner felt, the ready heart
His conquered self would yield him well
Ere yet the god had winged his dart.
But yet the tale we often hear
Of tears and sorrows keen,
To share in them, I ween,
Though sweet, would make us fear!

3RD MOORISH WOMAN.
To love a lover true,
In youth's kind day, I trow,