Poems on various subjects By R. Anderson |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. | SONG XL. HENRY. |
| XLI. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
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 | Poems on various subjects |  |
SONG XL. HENRY.
Far on the main young Henry's sailing,
Bending to his hard fate severe;
While his fond love, his loss bewailing,
Mourns the sad absence of her dear.
Bending to his hard fate severe;
While his fond love, his loss bewailing,
Mourns the sad absence of her dear.
For three long years a faithful lover,
At last he nam'd the happy day;
When this his parents did discover,
They forc'd my Henry far away.
At last he nam'd the happy day;
When this his parents did discover,
They forc'd my Henry far away.
209
What hopes and fears distract poor Nancy,
To think of dangers he must brave;
When winds are howling, oft I fancy
He may have found a wat'ry grave.
To think of dangers he must brave;
When winds are howling, oft I fancy
He may have found a wat'ry grave.
Yon mossy bank I make my pillow,
Where oft he own'd his tender flame;
Or weep beneath the weeping willow,
Where oft he carv'd his Nancy's name.
Where oft he own'd his tender flame;
Or weep beneath the weeping willow,
Where oft he carv'd his Nancy's name.
I view each well-remember'd token,
The garters gay, ‘Still constant be;’
Or read upon the gold that's broken,
‘Remember Henry far at sea.’
The garters gay, ‘Still constant be;’
Or read upon the gold that's broken,
‘Remember Henry far at sea.’
Yes, Henry, yes, all offers scorning,
Thy Nancy ne'er will faithless prove:
Can I forget the fatal morning,
When last I parted from my love!
Thy Nancy ne'er will faithless prove:
Can I forget the fatal morning,
When last I parted from my love!
210
Cheer'd with the thought of thy returning,
A while fond Hope dispels each care;
But should Heaven change that hope to mourning,
Thy Nancy soon will meet thee there.
A while fond Hope dispels each care;
But should Heaven change that hope to mourning,
Thy Nancy soon will meet thee there.
| Poems on various subjects | |