Bartholomew Cooke
(fl.1794 - 1798)

When robbed of her mate
(S.S.A.B. + reduction)
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The titlepiece for this glee is ambiguous. Cooke was the publisher (in Dublin), but may not have been the composer.
Lyrics: Anon

When robbed of her mate the poor bird of the morn
Sits drooping and sad in the shade of the thorn;
From the sky's rosy beams turns in anguish away,
Nor wakes the fond carol to wakem the day.

Thus alone and deprived of the lord of my heart,
Not a solace nor hope can the pleasure impart;
O'er the fields of delight dejected I rove:
For what is Elisium, what is it to love?