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From Atterbury's collection of glees for three and four voices, pub. c.1777.

Lyrics: William Shenstone

Yes, these are the scenes where with Iris I stray'd,
But short was her sway for so lovely a maid.
In the bloom of her youth to a cloister she run,
In the bloom of her graces too fair for a nun
Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must prove,
So fatal to beauty, so killing to love.

Yes, these are the meadows, the shrubs, and the plains,
Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains;
How many soft moments I spent in this grove,
How fair was my nymph, and how fervent my love.
Be still though, my heart, thine emotion give o'er;
Remember, the season of love is no more.

With her how I stray'd amid fountains and bow'rs
Or loiter'd behind, and collected the flow'rs.
Then, breathless with ardour, my fair one pursued,
And to think with what kindness my garland she view'd;
But be still, my fond Heart, this emotion give o'er,
Fain would'st thou forget thou must love her no more.

Luffman Atterbury
(1740 - 1796)

Yes, these are the scenes

(A.T.B.)

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