 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
DIVIDED LOVE.
When Love o'er the warm heart is stealing
His mystic, his magical chain,
How wild is the transport of feeling,
We scarce can call pleasure or pain!
Till 'midst the bright joys that surround us,
Our bondage we tremble to see;—
But so closely his fetters have bound us,
We struggle in vain to be free!
His mystic, his magical chain,
How wild is the transport of feeling,
We scarce can call pleasure or pain!
Till 'midst the bright joys that surround us,
Our bondage we tremble to see;—
But so closely his fetters have bound us,
We struggle in vain to be free!
As vain is the hope of retreating
From peril that lurks in the eyes,
When glances too frequent are meeting,
And sighs are re-echoed by sighs;
When thus, with two hearts that are tender,
The folly so equal hath been,
'Tis meet that they both should surrender,
And share the soft bondage between.
From peril that lurks in the eyes,
When glances too frequent are meeting,
And sighs are re-echoed by sighs;
When thus, with two hearts that are tender,
The folly so equal hath been,
'Tis meet that they both should surrender,
And share the soft bondage between.
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |