BALLAD AND FINALE OF ACT II: Sighing softly to the 
river
GENERAL: Sighing softly to the river 
Comes the loving breeze, 
Setting nature all a-quiver, 
Rustling through the trees.
MEN: Through the trees.
GENERAL: And the brook, in rippling measure, 
Laughs for very love, 
While the poplars, in their pleasure, 
Wave their arms above.
MEN: Yes, the trees, for very love, 
Wave their leafy arms above.
ALL: River, river, little river, 
May thy loving prosper ever! 
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree, 
May thy wooing happy be.

GENERAL: Yet, the breeze is but a rover, 
When he wings away, 
Brook and poplar mourn a lover 
Sighing ,"Well-a-day!"
MEN: "Well-a-day!"
GENERAL: Ah! the doing and undoing, 
That the rogue could tell! 
When the breeze is out a-wooing, 
Who can woo so well?
MEN: Shocking tales the rogue could tell, 
Nobody can woo so well.
ALL: Pretty brook, thy dream is over, 
For thy love is but a rover; 
Sad the lot of poplar trees, 
Courted by a fickle breeze!