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MAID of my Love, sweet Genevieve !
I've seen your breast with pity heave,
And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve!
TO THE AUTUMNAL MOON.
MILD Splendour of the various-vested Night!
And when thou lovest thy pale orb to shroud
FOR THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL.
SERAPHS! around th' Eternal's seat who throng
O! teach our feeble tongues like yours the song
Like you, inspir'd with holy flame
To dwell on that Almighty name
Who bade the child of woe no longer sigh,
Th' all-gracious Parent hears the wretch's
The meek tear strongly pleads on high; Wan Resignation struggling with despair
The Lord beholds with pitying eye; Sees cheerless want unpitied pine, Disease on earth its head recline,