---

James Thomson - To Her I Love
Work rating: Low

Tell me, thou soul of her I love,
   Ah! tell me, whither art thou fled;
To what delightful world above,
   Appointed for the happy dead?

Or dost thou, free, at pleasure, roam
   And sometimes share thy lover`s woe; 
Where, void of thee, his cheerless home
   Can now, alas! no comfort know?

Oh! if thou hoverest round my walk,
   While, under every well-known tree,
I to thy fancied shadow talk, 
   And every tear is full of thee;

Should then the weary eye of grief,
   Beside some sympathetic stream,
In slumber find a short relief,
          Visit thou my soothing dream!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.