Art thou, in pensive mood, delaying?
This lovely morn—this lovely morn,
Ah! whither do thy bright thoughts wander?
What absent loved one dost thou mourn?
On what blessed image dost thou ponder?
This lovely morn, when all is fair,
And beautiful as Eden’s bowers,
Why have I not thy tender care,
Thy smiles to cheer the lonely hours?
Why have I not thy kisses warm?