Four favourite songs/Robin and Anna

ROBIN AND ANNA.

She listens;—"'Tis the wind," she cries;
The moon, that rose so full and bright,
Is now o'ercast: she looks, she sighs,
She fears 'twill be a stormy night.

Not long was Anna wed. Her mate,
A fisherman, was out at sea,
The night is dark, the hour is late,
The wind is high—and where is he?

"Oh! who would love, Oh! who would wed
A wandering fisherman, to be
A wretched, lonely wife, and dread
Each breath that blows, when he's at sea!"

Not long was Anna wed. One pledge
Of tender love her bosom bore;
The storm comes down! the billows rage,
Its father is not yet on shore.

"Oh! who would think her portion bless'd
A wandering seaman's wife to be,
To hug the infant to her breast,
Whose father's on a stormy sea!"

The thunder bursts! the lightning falls:
The casement rattles with the rain,
And, as the gusty tempest bawls,
The little cottage quakes again!—

She doesn't speak; she doesn't sigh!
She gazes on her infant dear—
A smile lights up the cherub's eye,
Which dims its mother's with a tear!

"Oh! who would be a seaman's wife!
Oh! who would bear a seaman's child:
To tremble for her husband's life,
To weep-because her infant smild."

Ne'er hadst thou born a seaman's boy—
Ne'er had thy husband left the shore—
Thou ne'er hadst felt the frantic joy,
To see—thy Robin at the door!

To press his weather-beaten cheek,
To kiss it dry and warm again,
To weep the joy thou couldst not speak—
So pleasure's in the debt of pain!

Thy cheerful fire, thy plain repast,
Thy little couch of love I ween,
Were ten times sweeter than the last
And not a cloud that night was seen!

A happy pair; the pains you know,
Still hand in hand with pleasure come;
For often does the tempest blow, bouillon
And Robin still is safe at home.