Song #8 Poem by Christian Milne

When twilight sheds its parting ray,
On Don's sweet banks I lonely stray,
Indulging thought's dejected train,
That paints my absent lover slain!
Each flow'ret's lovely head with dew
Hangs down, since Phoebus' beams withdrew;
Now silence reigns: the owl alone
In this still hour is heard on Don!
When Night her gloomy mantle throws,
O'er the sweet scenes this river shows,
Methinks I hear each murmuring wave
And zephyr talk of JEMMY 's grave!
What beams celestial dart this way?
Ah! cheering sight! 'tis Hope's blest ray,
That kindly bids me cease my moan,
For soon he'll cheer the banks of Don.