Poem by Anne Hunter

Song 8. TO wander alone when the moon faintly beaming

TO wander alone when the moon faintly beaming,
With glimmering lustre darts through the dim shade,
Where owls seek for covert, and night birds complaining,
Add sound to the horrors that darken the glade.
'Tis not for the happy, come daughter of sorrow,
'Tis here thy sad thoughts are embalm'd in thy tears,

Where lost in the past, nor regarding to-morrow,
There's nothing for hopes, there's nothing for fears.

1. Laura
2. Song 13. SPRING returns, the flowrets blow
3. Song 11. THE anguish of my bursting heart
4. Addressed to Mrs. G.
5. Song 4. THE moments fly, and we must part

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