If heaven has fix'd my doom,
That Love must quite consume
My bursting heart, and close my eyes in death;
Ah! grant this flight request,
That hero my urn may rest
When to its mansion flies my vital breath.
This pleasing hope will smooth
My anxious wind, and sooth
The pangs of that inevitable hour;
My spirit will not grieve
Her mortal veil to leave
In these calm shades, and this enchanting bower.
S' egli e pur mio deftino,
E'l cielo in cio s' adopra,
Ch' amor quefti oechi lagrimando chiuda,
Qualche grazia il mefehino
Corpo fra voi ricopra;
E torni l' alma al proprio albergo ignuda:
La morte fia men cruda,
Se quefta fpeme porto
A quel dubbiofo paffo;
Che lo fpirito laffo
Non poria mai in piu ripofato porto
N'eri piu tranquilla foffa
Fuggir la carne travagliata e l' offa
