38
In thy bower of green,
I will be queen,
And thou be lord of all.
I will be queen,
And thou be lord of all.
LINESWRITTEN DURING THE SEVERE ILLNESS OF MY YOUNGEST GIRL.
Oh! pale art thou, my once blooming flow'r,
And faint and weak thy little form appears,
Which late bloom'd freshest in thy mother's bow'r;
Alas! alas! I view the change with tears.
And faint and weak thy little form appears,
Which late bloom'd freshest in thy mother's bow'r;
Alas! alas! I view the change with tears.
No more thou runn'st with frolic glee to meet me;
No more I hear thee carol thy gay song;
Thy soft blue eyes scarce now unclose to greet me,
Gone the gay smiles which did to thee belong.
No more I hear thee carol thy gay song;
Thy soft blue eyes scarce now unclose to greet me,
Gone the gay smiles which did to thee belong.
