Anne Hunter Poems

THE fatal moment I beheld
Those eyes so fondly fix'd on me,
Some magic sure my heart compell'd
To place its dearest hopes on thee.
...

WHEN hollow bursts the rushing wind,
And heavy beats the shower,
This anxious, aching bosom finds
No comfort in its power.
...

MY mother bids me bind my hair
With bands of rosy hue,
Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
And lace my bodice blue.
...

FAR from this throbbing bosom haste,
Ye doubts and fears, that lay it waste;
Dear anxious days of pleasing pain
Fly, never to return again.
...

DEAR shade of bliss, enchanting hope,
Thy fairy dreams are almost o'er;
Bewilder'd, weary, faint, I stop,
My heart, alas! believes no more.
...

THE moments fly, and we must part,
To weep a long adieu;
But still this fond, this faithful heart,
Shall feel, shall beat for you.
...

FAR, far from me my love is fled,
In a light skiff he tempts the sea,
The young desires his sails have spread,
And hope his pilot deigns to be.
...

IN airy dreams fond fancy flies,
My absent love to see,
And with the early dawn I rise,
Dear youth, to think of thee.
...

O'ER the lone heath I wander wild,
Or sing beneath the hawthorn shade,
While the soft breeze of ev'ning mild
Hovers around my careless head.
...

TO wander alone when the moon faintly beaming,
With glimmering lustre darts through the dim shade,
...