The Seraglio | ||
7
AIR.
[I have not the Grace, and I know not the Art]
I have not the Grace, and I know not the Art,
In fine Words my poor Mind to array;
But express ev'ry Thought as it flows from my Heart,
And as Nature shall point out the Way.
In fine Words my poor Mind to array;
But express ev'ry Thought as it flows from my Heart,
And as Nature shall point out the Way.
Yet, yet will I write, and am sure to prevail,
While to save my poor Father I try;
In the Language of Nature I'll dress a plain Tale,
And Duty the rest shall supply.
While to save my poor Father I try;
In the Language of Nature I'll dress a plain Tale,
And Duty the rest shall supply.
The Seraglio | ||