THE SIGH AND THE TEAR.
Little smother'd struggling sigh, Hopeless mourner ! tell me why You assail my faithful breast, And bereave my heart of rest ? Little sad intruding tear, Why dost thou too linger here ? Is it for thy sister sigh, Thou dost stand as guardian by ?
Haste, away ! or you will prove, That my heart is chain'd by love; Were it not for you alone, Passion there might live unknown; If within his breast you stay, You must ne'er his pangs betray, You may feed upon its woes, But its grief must ne'er disclose.
To hope the best is pious, brave, and wise And may itself procure what it presumes.
Young.
Behold yon gaudy painted flower, Fair opening to the morning rays !
It sprung and blossom'd in an hour,
With night's chill dews its bloom decays,
Yet simple maidens, as they rove,
Mistake, and call it flower o
