Poem by Anne Hunter

Song 6. IN airy dreams fond fancy flies

IN airy dreams fond fancy flies,
My absent love to see,
And with the early dawn I rise,
Dear youth, to think of thee.

How swiftly flew the rosy hours,
When hope and love were new;
Sweet was the time, as op'ning flowers,
But, ah! 'twas transient too.
The moments now move slowly on,
Until thy wish'd return;
I count them, pensive and alone,
As in the shades I mourn.
Return, return, my love, and charm
Each anxious care to rest;
Thy voice shall every doubt disarm,
And sooth my troubled breast.

1. Ode to the Conduit Vale, Blackheath
2. Laura to Petrarch
3. The Lamentation of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
4. The Spirit’s Song
5. Epitaph for My Father

Print

1703 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version