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the morning walk.
Where'er you go—in weal or wo,
Whatever fate befall,
In sunny glade, in forest shade,
A Heaven is over all!
Whatever fate befall,
In sunny glade, in forest shade,
A Heaven is over all!
THE MORNING WALK, OR THE STOLEN BLUSH.
a lover's lay.
Never tell me that cheek is not painted, false maid
'Tis a fib, tho' your pretty lip pouts while I say it
And if the cheat were not already betray'd,
Those exquisite blushes themselves would betray it.
'Tis a fib, tho' your pretty lip pouts while I say it
And if the cheat were not already betray'd,
Those exquisite blushes themselves would betray it.
But listen! this morning you rose ere the dawn,
To keep an appointment perhaps—with Apollo?
And finding a fairy foot-print on the lawn,
Which I could not mistake, I determined to follow.
To keep an appointment perhaps—with Apollo?
And finding a fairy foot-print on the lawn,
Which I could not mistake, I determined to follow.
