Thy fatal shafts.
[Smollett.—Tune, "An' then wert my ain thing."]
Thy fatal shafts unerring move;
I bow before thine altar. Love!
I feel thy soft resistless flame
Glide swift through all nay vital frame!
For while I gaze my bosom glows,
My blood in tides impetuous flows;
Hope, fear, and joy, alternate roll,
And floods of transport 'whelm my soul.
My falt'ring tongue attempts in vain
In soothing murmurs to complain;
My tongue some secret magic ties,
My murmurs sink in broken sighs!
Condemn'd to nurse eternal care,
And ever drop the silent tear,
Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh,
Unfriended live, unpitied die!