And o’er the moor that’s sedgy;
With heavy thoughts my mind is fill’d,
Since I parted with my Betsy:
Whene’er I turn to view the place,
The tears fall down and blind me;
When I think on the charming grace
Of her I left behind me.
The hours I remember well,
When first from her they mov’d me;
The burning flames my heart doth tell,