Page:Poems Nealds.djvu/52

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26

Then waft me to the rosy bow'r
Where with my Henry oft I rove;
There let me pass the fleeting hour
With him I so sincerely love.

Zephyr hasten to my lover,
Bear this kiss, this sigh, this tear,
Say as you round him gently hover
Anna weeps that he's not near.

And whisper low when back you rove,
That thoughts of me possess his breast;
Thou'lt seem an angel from above,
And softly soothe my soul to rest.