Ah! Belinda,
I am pressed with torment.
Ah! Belinda,
I am pressed with torment
not to be confessed.
Ah! Belinda,
I am pressed with torment.
Ah! Belinda,
I am pressed with torment
not to be confessed.
Peace and I are strangers grown.
I languish till my grief is known
Yet would not have it guessed.
Peace and I are strangers grown.