Lyrics If Music Be the Food of Love - Kathleen Battle, Генри Пёрселл

If Music Be the Food of Love

sing on till I am fill’d with joy;
for then my list’ning soul you move
with pleasures that can never cloy,
your eyes, your mien, your tongue declare
that you are music ev’rywhere.
Pleasures invade both eye and ear,
so fierce the transports are, they wound,
and all my senses feasted are,
tho' yet the treat is only sound.
Sure I must perish by your charms,
unless you save me in your arms.