Pure as streamlet clear and fleet,
Love inhabits her soft eyes,
Floats in all her soothing sighs,
Nought on earth so sweet as she.

Let us, Mary, now enjoy
Nature's charms without alloy,
Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;--
Brooks that babble but of love
Will beside us softer flow.

Let us seek the pleasant shade,
Sit in bowers by us arrayed
With gay flow'rets, where are heard
Songs of many a pleasant bird,
Which with rapture we will join.

In that sweet and lovely spot,
All the cares of earth forgot,
Thou, the comfort of my sight,
Thou, my glory, my delight,
Shalt my soul to peace allure.






SONG.