Lord Thomas and Fair Annet (1790)/A New Song

A NEW SONG

BLow on ye winds, descend soft rain,
to soothe my tender woes;
Your solemn music lulls my pain,
and gives me short repose.

The sun that makes all nature gay,
disturbs my my weary’d eyes,
And in dark shades I wade the day,
where Echo sleeping lies.

Then pity me, O gentle love!
and come to my relief,
Lest innocence and virtue prove,
a sacrifice to grief.

F I N I S