Page:Vocal miscellany.pdf/24



The shepherd steeks his faulding slap,
 * And o'er the moorlands whistles shirill,

Wi' wild, unequal wand'ring step,
 * I meet him on the dewy hill.

And when the lark. 'tween light and dark,
 * Blythe waukens by the daisy's side,

And mounts and sings on flittering wings,
 * A woe-worn glaist, I hameward glide.

Come, winter, with thine angry howl,
 * And raging bend the naked tree;

Thy gloom will soothe my chearless soul,
 * When Nature all is sad like me.

'Tis past! the pangs of love are past,
 * I love, I love no more;

Yet who would think I am, at last,
 * More wretched than before?

How blest, when first my heart was freed
 * From love's tormenting care,

If cold indifference did succeed,
 * Instead of fierce despair!

But, ah! how ill is he releas'd,
 * Tho' love a tyrant reigns,

When the successor in his breast
 * Redoubles all his pains!