Though another’s smiles requited,
Envious fate my doom should be:
Joy for ever disunited,
Think, ah! think, at times on me!
Oft amid the spicy gloaming,
Where the brakes their songs instil,
Fond affection silent roaming,
Loves to linger by the rill—
There when echo’s voice consoling,
Hears the nightingale complain,