THE SKY LARK, &c, Song

Adieu, ye streams that gently flowing, Murmur through the flowery mead; Vernal airs that softly blowing, Rustle through the leafy shade!

Adieu, ye birds whose notes delighting, Sweetly charm the rural scene; Beauteous prospects all inviting, Fields and meadows deck'd with green!

I could quit you unrepining, Not a tear should bathe my eye, Your enjoyments all resigning, Nor my bosom heave a sigh.

But when cruel fate ordains me From my lovely fair to part; Oh, the separation pains me! Deeply wounds my aching heart.

Falsehood and deceit despising, O she's fairer than the morn! When bright Phoebus just arising, Strews with pearl the dewy lawn.

But her mind in charms surpasses, Spotless as the solar ray; While a thousand nameless graces All around my fair one play.

When with her the sweet enjoyment Crowns the day with fresh delight; To chat with her the sweet employment Gilds with joy the gloomy night.

But by fate compell'd to leave her, From my Julia fore'd to part; Oh! the cruel word 'forever,' Wounds afresh my bleeding heart!