Song. Henry

My heart from my bosom wou'd fly, And wander, oh! wander afar, Reflection bedews my sad eye, For Henry is gone to the war.

Oh! ye winds, to my Henry bear One drop, let it fall on his breast; The tear, as a pearl he will wear, And I in remembrance be blest.

In vain smiles the glittering scene, In vain blooms the roseat flow'r, The sunshine of April's not seen, I have only to do with the show'r. Oh, ye winds, &c.

Ye winds that have borne-Run away, Restore my dear youth to my arms; Restore me to sunshine and day— 'Tis night till my Henry returns, Oh, ye winds, &c