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Can happiness a purer joy receive,
In the proud mansions of the rich and great?
Or, tell me, can the wounded bosom heave
With blunted anguish under robes of state!
In the proud mansions of the rich and great?
Or, tell me, can the wounded bosom heave
With blunted anguish under robes of state!
No! Henry, no! Alas! too well you know,
The misery of an affected smile,
The pain of clearing the thought-clouded brow,
To covet for yourself the hateful toil!
The misery of an affected smile,
The pain of clearing the thought-clouded brow,
To covet for yourself the hateful toil!
And since my choice, and reason both approve,
Since I have known you many a circling year,
And time has well assur'd me of your love,
Tell me, my Henry, what have I to fear?
Since I have known you many a circling year,
And time has well assur'd me of your love,
Tell me, my Henry, what have I to fear?
My father, though by worldly prudence led,
Will pardon when our happiness is told."
Alas! no curses fell upon my head,
But never did he more his child beheld.
Will pardon when our happiness is told."
Alas! no curses fell upon my head,
But never did he more his child beheld.
