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4
Come, Tell me where the Maid
is Found.
Come, tell me where the maid is found,
Whose heart can love without deceit—
And I will range the world around,
To sigh one moment at her feet.
O tell me where's her sainted home,
What air receives her blessed sigh!
A pilgrimage of years I'll roam,
To catch one sparkle of her eye!
And if her cheek be rosy bright,
While truth her bosom lies;
I'll gaze upon her morn and night,
Till my heart leave through my eyes!
Show me on earth a thing so rare,
I'll own all miracles are true;
To make one maid sincere and fair,
O, 'tis the utmost Heaven can do!
