Brave L——, so says a knight of the pen, "Has exposed himself much at the head of his men," As his men ran away without waiting to fight, To expose himself there's to be first in the flight. Had it not been as well, when he saw his men quail, To have stayed and exposed himself more at their tail? Or say, is it fair, in this noblest of quarrels, To suffer the chief to engross all the laurels? No! his men, so the muse to all Europe shall sing, Have exposed themselves fully as much as their king.
[SONG.]
I.
There sits a bird on yonder tree, More fond than Cushat Dove; There sits a bird on yonder tree, And sings to me of love. Oh! stoop thee from thine eyrie down! And nestle thee near my heart, For the moments fly, And the hour is nigh, When thou and I must part, My love! When thou and I must part.
II.
In yonder covert lurks a Fawn, The pride of the sylvan scene; In yonder covert lurks a Fawn, And I am his only queen; Oh! bound from thy secret lair, For the sun is below the west; No mortal eye May our meeting spy, For all are clos'd in rest, My love! Each eye is closed in rest.
III.
Oh, sweet is the breath of morn! When the sun's first beams appear; Oh! sweet is the shepherd's strain, When it dies on the listening ear; And sweet the soft voice which speaks The Wanderer's welcome home; But sweeter far By yon pale mild star, With our true Love thus to roam, My dear! With our own true Love to roam!