 | Elegiac sonnets, and other poems |  |
81
SONG.
[Does Pity give, tho' Fate denies]
Does Pity give, tho' Fate denies,
And to my wounds her balm impart?
O speak—with those expressive eyes!
Let one low sigh escape thine heart.
And to my wounds her balm impart?
O speak—with those expressive eyes!
Let one low sigh escape thine heart.
The gazing croud shall never guess
What anxious, watchful Love can see;
Nor know what those soft looks express,
Nor dream that sigh is meant for me.
What anxious, watchful Love can see;
Nor know what those soft looks express,
Nor dream that sigh is meant for me.
Ah! words are useless, words are vain,
Thy generous sympathy to prove;
And well that sigh, those looks explain,
That Clara mourns my hapless love.
Thy generous sympathy to prove;
And well that sigh, those looks explain,
That Clara mourns my hapless love.
| Elegiac sonnets, and other poems | |