SONG
[I sing no songs, to make thee grieve]
1
I sing no songs, to make thee grieve,
I bring no cares for thy decay;
But still the happiest wishes weave,
That all thy life were May!—
2
And thou should'st flourish like a flower,
A blossom by the brooklets side;
Thy life should be a rosy bower,
With nought to wish beside.
3
Thy life should be a happy dream,
Without a care or strife.
And thou the sweetest picture seem,
That ever breathed this life.
4
She passed and turned a steady smile,
She looked on me with steadfast eye,
I loved in silence, all the while:
And silent blessed her, passing bye;
5
She shewed me where her thoughts had been,
She shewed me where her heart would be;
And though true love would keep unseen,
I blessed her silently.
