Soprano solo
Oboe
Violin I + II
Viola
Basso continuo

Yield I say, ye brooding shadows,
Frost and tempests, take your rest!
Flora's mirth
Will our breast
Nought but merry joy now furnish,
For she draws with flowers nigh.

The world again is new,
To hilltops and the valleys
Would gracious charm be twice as fair united,
The day is from the chill now free.

Phoebus hies with darting horses
Through the re-awakened world.
Yea, since to him it brings delight,
He himself would be a lover.

Thus seeketh Amor, too, his pleasures,
When purple on the meadows laughs,
When Flora's glory is adorned,
And when in her domain,
Just like the flowers fair,
E'en hearts in passion triumph.

When the vernal breezes ramble
And through bright-clad meadows blow,
Amor, too, is wont to venture
Out to witness his great pride,
Which, as we believe, is this,
That one heart the other kiss.

And this is that true gladness,
That through a lofty gift of fortune
Two spirits one rich gem discover,
In which much health and blessing sparkle.

To practise sweet courtship,
In jesting to frolic
Is better than Flora's mere passing delight.
Here wellsprings are welling,
Here laughing and watching
In triumph are palms on the lips and the breast.

So let the bond of chaste affection,
O promised pair,
From fickleness of change be free!
No sudden hap
Nor thunderclap
Let frighten their devoted passion!

Witness in contented bliss
Thousand radiant days of favor,
That soon in the time to come
Your affection bear its flower!