The unwary to inslave;
If in each you'd happy prove,
Without Noise still watch your way;
For in Birding and in Love,
While we talk it flies away.
A Song.
MUST Love, that Tyrant of the Breast,
Have all our Songs, have all our Hours;
The unwary to inslave;
If in each you'd happy prove,
Without Noise still watch your way;
For in Birding and in Love,
While we talk it flies away.
MUST Love, that Tyrant of the Breast,
Have all our Songs, have all our Hours;