She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen'd to stone; She kiss'd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed; She hugg'd it to her breast, and groan'd her last. H SONG. OW sweet I roam'd from field to field Till I the Prince of Love beheld He shew'd me lilies for my hair, With sweet May-dews my wings were wet, He caught me in his silken net, And shut me in his golden cage. He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing And mocks my loss ofliberty. SONG. Y silks and fine array, MY My smiles and languish'd air By love are driven away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave : Such end true lovers have. His face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold; O why to him was't given, Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is love's all-worshipp'd tomb, Where all love's pilgrims come. Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding-sheet; When I my grave have made Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay : True love doth pass away! L SONG. OVE and harmony combine And around our souls intwine, While thy branches mix with mine, Joys upon our branches sit, Like gentle streams beneath our feet Thou the golden fruit dost bear, Thy sweet boughs perfume the air, There she sits and feeds her young, There his charming nest doth lay, I SONG. LOVE the jocund dance, The softly-breathing song, Where innocent eyes do glance And where lisps the maiden's tongue. I love the laughing vale, I love the echoing hill, Where mirth does never fail, And the jolly swain laughs his fill. I love the pleasant cot, I love the innocent bower, Where white and brown is our lot Or fruit in the mid-day hour. I love the oaken seat, Beneath the oaken tree, Where all the old villagers meet, And laugh our sports to see. I love our neighbours all, But, Kitty, I better love thee; M SONG. EMORY, hither come And tune your merry notes : And while upon the wind Your music floats I'll pore upon the stream I'll drink of the clear stream And hear the linnet's song, And when night comes, I'll go Walking along the darken'd valley MAD SONG. HE wild winds weep, TH And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling beds of dawn The earth do scorn. Lo! to the vault Of paved heaven, With sorrow fraught My notes are driven : с |