Lest he should stray without a guide,
To drown my hopes in sorrow's tide!"
A Summer-Morning Rumble
Oh! the happy Summer hours.
With their butterflies and flowers,
And the birds among the bowers
Sweetly singing;—
With the spices from the trees,
Lest he should stray without a guide,
To drown my hopes in sorrow's tide!"
Oh! the happy Summer hours.
With their butterflies and flowers,
And the birds among the bowers
Sweetly singing;—
With the spices from the trees,