Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/27





With thee in pensive pleasure I would melt; To me thy raptures, thy endearments give: Oh! ye, who these according joys have felt, Say, with a generous friend, how sweet to grieve.

Oh! yes, we love our sorrows to impart, And meet our comfort from a kindred heart; The elevated soul, by thee refin'd, Once to thy dear enchanting sway resign'd, Shall ever pour the genuine vow to thee, Oh! child of tender sensibility.

 

the blythe mariners with glowing hearts, Guide the proud vessel to their native shore, Then Hope the animating lay imparts, And whispers of the rapture yet in store. Their spreading sails the lingering breezes gain, The airy streamers waving o'er the main; That main, which causes many a heart to mourn, Now softly rolls to favour their return. 