THE INTERVIEW
A Song
Darkness clos'd around, loud the tempest drove,
When thro' yonder glen I saw my lover rove,
Dearest youth!
Soon he reach'd our cot—weary, wet, and cold,
But warmth, wine, and I, to cheer his spirits strove,
Dearest youth!
How my love, cried I, durst thou hither stray
Thro' the gloom, nor fear the ghosts that haunt the grove?
Dearest youth!
In this heart, said he, fear no seat can find,
When each thought is fill'd alone with thee and love,
Dearest maid!