A Song sung by Mrs Aliff in the Play call'd Tyrannick-Love or the Royall Martyre set by Mr Henry Purccell

[...] Ah! how sweet, Ah! how sweet, how sweet it is to Love; Ah!— Ah!—
[...] Ah!— how gay is young desire. And what pleasing
[...] pains, and what pleas [...]t pains we prove, when first, when first me feel a Lovers
[...] fire. Pains of Love are sweeter far than all. all. all. all. all. all.
[...] other pleasures are. Pains of Love are sweeter far, than all, all, all, all,
[...] other plea — s"{ s are are
Sigh's that are from Lovers blown,
Gentle more and heave the heart,
Ev'n the tears they shed alone.
Like trickling balm cure the smart,
Lovers when they loose their breath.
Bleed away an easy death.

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