Might I but speak what yearns my soul to say And might I tell where my heart is given, Remembrance would my darling thus portray— Young, spotless—with a star-eyed face, like Heaven! Glorious is she who thus is ever near me In all my dreams, by day or in the night; Repeat my vow, ye winged winds that hear me— Vainly shall others flit before my sight, I mpotent they, who flatter to endear me— No siren tempts me from my Mollie bright! |