 | The poetical works of the late Thomas Little [i.e. Thomas Moore] |  |
123
SONG.
[A captive thus to thee, my girl]
A captive thus to thee, my girl,
How sweetly shall I pass my age,
Contented, like the playful squirrel,
To wanton up and down my cage.
How sweetly shall I pass my age,
Contented, like the playful squirrel,
To wanton up and down my cage.
When death shall envy joy like this,
And come to shade our sunny weather,
Be our last sigh the sigh of bliss,
And both our souls exhal'd together!
And come to shade our sunny weather,
Be our last sigh the sigh of bliss,
And both our souls exhal'd together!
| The poetical works of the late Thomas Little [i.e. Thomas Moore] | |