Written for performance at Vauxhall; Mr (?William) Darley was the first singer. The keyboard part is an editorial condensation of the orchestral parts, and the song may be performed with this accompaniment alone.

Lyrics: T. C. Rickman

Each fluent bard, replete with wit,
In equal numbers shines,
And sweetly flows some fancied name
To grace his polish'd lines.
He calls the Muses to his aid;
In verse he tells his am'rous tale.
Be thou my muse, my much-lov'd maid,
The fairest flow'r of Hedsor Dale.

I feel the warm, the pleasing fire,
Within my bosom roll,
And purest love, and chaste desire,
Steal softly on my soul:
In vain I would the flame conceal,
And hide those cares my heart assail;
My talk and looks and sighs prevail,
I love the flow'r of Hedsor Dale.

What pity that a nymph so fair
With winning shape and face,
Should be devoted to some clown,
Or rustic's rude embrace!
That form demands a better fate:
Sweet hope, perhaps I can prevail;
I'll try before it is too late,
To cull the flow'r of Hedsor Dale.