Charles Hubert Hastings Parry - Of all the torments - текст песни (слова)

Of all the tormants, all the cares, 
With which our lives are curst; 
Of all the plagues a lover bears, 
Sure rivals are the worst! 
By partners of each other kind 
afflictions easier grow; 
In love we hate to find  
Companions of our woe. 

 Silvia, for all the pangs you see, 
Are laboring in my breast; 
I beg not you would favor me 
Would you but slight the rest. 
How great so e'er your rigors are 
With them alone I'll cope: 
I can endure my own despair, 
But not another's hope!