Robert Broderip
 (1758 - 1808)

Why should man, with fancied sorrow
 (T.T.B.)
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From Broderip's "Miscellaneous collection of vocal music" published as his Op. IX.
Lyrics: Anon

Why should man, with fancied sorrow,
Sour the present hour of joy?
Care will come too soon tomorrow,
Life's short pleasures to destroy.

He alone acts true to reason
Who, content in ev'ry state,
Pleased partakes each joy in season,
Nor repines at frowning fate.

Nought avails the tearful eye,
Nought avails the heaving sigh;
'Tis not these can soften fate,
Or protract life's destined date.

Come, enjoy the fleeting pleasure
That the present hour affords;
Envy not the miser's treasure,
Poor amidst his countless hoards.

Richer we, this hour enjoying,
In kind friendship closely joined,
Taste these joys which, never cloying,
Leave content and peace behind.