With secret spells her wounded mind compose,
And chase the faithful tear—for you that flows:
Be near—when moonlight spreads the charm you loved
O’er scenes where once your earthly footstep roved.
Then, while she wanders o’er the sparkling dew,
Through glens and wood-paths, once endear’d by you,
And fondly lingers in your favourite bowers,
And pauses oft, recalling former hours;
Then wave your pinion o’er each well-known vale,
Float in the moonbeam, sigh upon the gale;