Come! with thy presence warm my heart,
And when a kindred soul I find,
Oh never, never let us part.
They call thee changing, sordid, vain,
On earth scarce known, and rare to see;
And when they feel base treach’ry’s pain,
They lay the heavy blame on thee.
’Tis true there are whom interest blind,
That prostitute thy sacred name;
Their souls to narrow views confined,