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the a e o, 1 m d
.]
THE BIRDS.
He Where thou dwellest, in what grove, Tell me, fair one, tell me, love, Where thou thy charming nest dost build, 0 thou pride of every field! Yonder stands a lonely tree, There I live and mourn for thee; Morning drinks my silent tear, And evening winds my sorrow bear. O thou summer's harmony, I have lived and mourned for thee; Each day I mourn along the wood, And night hath heard my sorrows loud. Dost thou truly long for me ? And am I thus sweet to thee Sorrow now is at an end, O my lover and my friend l Come! on wings of joy we'll fly To where my bower is hung on high; Come, and make thy c,,lm retreat Among green leaves and blossoms sweet.
