II. Ah! who would taste your self-deluding joys, That bid fair views and flattering hopes arise, III. Yet can I ask what charms in thee are found; I, who have drank from thine etherial rill, And tasted all the pleasures that abound Upon Parnassus, lov'd Aonian hill ? I, through whose soul the Muses' strains aye thrill! Oh! I do feel the spell with which I'm tied; And though our annals fearful stories tell, How Savage languish'd, and how Otway died, Yet must I persevere, let whate'er will betide. TO LOVE. .I. WHY should I blush to own I love? II. Why should I seek the thickest shade, Lest Love's dear secret be betrayed? Why the stern brow deceitful move, When I am languishing with love? III. Is it weakness thus to dwell THE WANDERING BOY, A SONG. I. WHEN the winter wind whistles along the wild moor, And the cottager shuts on the beggar his door; When the chilling tear stands in my comfortless eye, Oh, how hard is the lot of the Wandering Boy! II. The winter is cold, and I have no vest, And my heart it is cold as it beats in my breast; For I am a parentless Wandering Boy. III. Yet I had a home, and I once had a sire, A mother who granted each infant desire; IV. But my father and mother were summon'd away, TO LOVE. .I. WHY should I blush to own I love ?. "Tis Love that rules the realms above. Why should I blush to say to all, That Virtue holds my heart in thrall? II. Why should I seek the thickest shade, Lest Love's dear secret be betrayed? Why the stern brow deceitful move, When I am languishing with love? III. Is it weakness thus to dwell On passion that I dare not tell? Such weakness I would ever prove : 'Tis painful, though 'tis sweet, to love. THE WANDERING BOY, A SONG. I. WHEN the winter wind whistles along the wild moor, And the cottager shuts on the beggar his door; When the chilling tear stands in my comfortless eye, Oh, how hard is the lot of the Wandering Boy! II. The winter is cold, and I have no vest, And my heart it is cold as it beats in my breast; For I am a parentless Wandering Boy. III. Yet I had a home, and I once had a sire, A mother who granted each infant desire; IV. But my father and mother were summon'd away, |