Poem by Anne Hunter

Song 13. SPRING returns, the flowrets blow

SPRING returns, the flowrets blow;
Will hope return? ah, no! ah, no!
With the dreams of youth she flies,
And like the rose, her emblem, dies.
Fancy droops beneath the shade,
And all the gay delights are fled.
Spring returns, the flowrets blow;
Will hope return? ah, no! ah, no!

1. To a Friend on New Year’s Day
2. Addressed to Mrs. G.
3. Song 2. FAR from this throbbing bosom haste
4. Song 10. O Tuneful voice, I still deplore
5. November, 1784

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