15
And here, in this lone little wood, I exclaim'd,
With a maid that's delightful to soul and to eye;
Who would blush'd when I prais'd her, would weep if I blam'd,
How contented I’d live, and how calm could I die.
Every leaf was at rest, &c.
By the shade of yon sumach, whose red berries dip,
In the gush of the fountain how sweet to recline,
And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips,
Which never were sigh'd on by any but mine.
My Anna's worth my Anna's charms.
Encompass‘d in an angel’s frame,
An angel's virtues lay;
Too soon did heav'n assert the claim,
And call its own away.
My Anna's worth, my Anna's charms,
Must never more return!
What now shall fill these widow arms?
Ah! me, my Anna's urn!
Can I forget that bliss resign'd,
Which blest with her I knew!
Our hearts in sacred bonds entwin'd,
Were bound in love so true.
