I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze It could not match the living rays As clouds from yonder sun receive Which scarce the shade of coming eve Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their sunshine leaves a glow behind LII. NOW SPRING HAS CLAD THE GROVE IN GREEN. AIR.-The hopeless lover. Now Spring has clad the grove in green, And strew'd the lea with flowers; The furrow'd waving corn is seen Rejoice in fostering showers, While ilka thing in nature join O why thus, all alone, are mine The trout within yon wimpling burn, That glides a silver dart, And safe beneath the shady thorn My life was once that careless stream, But love, with unrelenting beam, Has scorch'd my fountain dry. The little flowret's peaceful lot, Nae ruder visit knows, Was mine, till love has o'er me past, And blighted a' my bloom; And now, beneath the withering blast, My youth and joy consume. The waken'd lavrock warbling springs, And climbs the early sky, Winnowing blythe her dewy wings In rosy morning's eye; As little reckt I sorrow's power, Until the flowery snare Of witching love, in luckless hour, Made ine the thrall of care. O had my fate been Greenland snows, Or Afric's burning zone, Wi' man and nature leagued my foes, So Peggy ne'er I'd known! The wretch whose doom is, " Hope nae mair!" What tongue his woes can tell, LIII. NAE MAIR WE'LL MEET, &c. AIR. We'll meet beside the dusky glen. Nae mair we'll meet again, my love, by yon burn side, Will we hail at close o' day, For we ne'er again will stray, down by yon burn side. Yet mem'ry oft will fondly brood, on yon burn side, Though thy foot can never mair Bend to earth the gowan fair, down by yon burn side. Now far remov'd from every care, 'boon yon burn side, Sure the tear for me will flow, Who must linger here below, down by yon burn side. LIII. WHERE DOST THOU BIDE. Where dost thou bide, bless'd soul of my love? I gaze on bright clouds, and I fancy thee there. Or to thy bower, while musing I go, I think 'tis thy voice that I hear in the breeze; Softly it seems to speak peace to my woe, And life once again for a moment can please. Can this be frenzy? if so, 'tis so dear, That long may the pleasing delusion be nigh; Still Ellen's voice in the breeze may I hear, Still see in bright clouds the kind beams of her eye. LIV. O CHERUB, CONTENT. O cherub, Content, at thy moss-cover'd shrine But thy presence appears from my wishes to fly, No lustre that hangs, &c. In the pulse of my heart I have nourish'd a care, O cherub, Content, at thy moss-cover'd shrine, |