Pleasure and hope would sparkle in their eyes.
Ah! who shall tell, when all the work was done,
The rapturous pleasure that their labors crowned,
The blissful moments Nature for them won,
And bade them celebrate with joyous sound.
A father's pride, a mother's anxious care,
Her fluttered spirits, and his gentlest tone,
All, all that wedded hearts so fondly share,
To thee, deserted nest, were surely known.
Then though thy walls be rent, and cold thy cell,