IN vain ye woo me to your harmless joys, Ye pleasant bowers, remote from strife and noise; Your shades, the witnesses of many a vow Breathed forth in happier days, are irksome now; Denied that smile 'twas once my heaven to see, Such scenes, such pleasures, are all past with me. In vain He leaves me, I shall love Him still; And though I mourn, not murmur at His will; I have no cause--an object all divine Might well grow weary of a soul like mine; Yet pity me, great God! forlorn, alone, Heartless and hopeless, Life and Love all gone. |