Page:National Lyrics.pdf/148



bring me one sweet Orange-bough, To fan my cheek, to cool my brow; One bough, with pearly blossoms drest, And bind it, Mother! on my breast!

Go, seek the grove along the shore, Whose odours I must breathe no more; The grove where every scented tree Thrills to the deep voice of the sea.

Oh! Love's fond sighs, and fervent prayer, And wild farewell, are lingering there; Each leaf's light whisper hath a tone, My faint heart, ev'n in death, would own.