Song 10 Poem by Anne Hunter
Song 10
O Tuneful voice, I still deplore
Those accents which, tho' heard no more,
Still vibrate on my heart;
In echo's cave I long to dwell,
And still would hear the sad farewell,
When we were doom'd to part.
Bright eyes, O that the task were mine,
To guard the liquid fires that shine,
And round your orbits play;
To watch them with a vestal's care,
And feed with smiles a light so fair.
That it may ne'er decay.
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4/30/2024 2:02:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
