And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
Under the colour of commending him
I have access my own love to prefer;
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
Then to Silvia let us sing; That Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing; Upon the dull earth dwelling.
And I will follow, more to cross that love
Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.
Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon.
I remember Sarah saying in Salt Lake that she couldn't hear the music at the end of her routine because of the applause. It can be overwhelming, so I recorded the end of a rock concert to play for Silvia.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories