Ah, hast thou gone from him whose breast Bleeds with the thought we are apart, Whose tears fall vainly and unblest, Whose all--a crushed--a broken heart!
My beauty lives in a cottage grey by a gentle river's mouth, A cottage grey by the lone sea-shore away in the sunny south, Her eye's as fair, oh fairer, than the moonlight o'er the sea,...
I saw on a hedge that was flourishing by A rose that was stirred by the breath of the morn, So smiling and fragrant it looked there, that I Was tempted to seize it, forgetting the thorn. ...