Galatea & Acis
The flocks shall leave the mountains,
The woods the turtle dove,
The nymphs forsake the fountains,
Ere I forsake my love!
Polyphemus
Torture! fury! rage! despair!
I cannot, cannot bear!
Galatea & Acis
Not show'rs to larks so pleasing,
Nor sunshine to the bee,
Not sleep to toil so easing,
As these dear smiles to me.