SONG
.
IN
airy
dreams
fond
fancy
flies
,
My
absent
love
to
see
,
And
with
the
early
dawn
I
rise
,
Dear
youth
,
to
think
of
thee
.
How
swiftly
flew
the
rosy
hours
,
When
hope
and
love
were
new
;
Sweet
was
the
time
,
as
op'ning
flowers
,
But
,
ah
!
'twas
transient
too
.
The
moments
now
move
slowly
on
,
Until
thy
wish'd
return
;
I
count
them
,
pensive
and
alone
,
As
in
the
shades
I
mourn
.
Return
,
return
,
my
love
,
and
charm
Each
anxious
care
to
rest
;
Thy
voice
shall
every
doubt
disarm
,
And
sooth
my
troubled
breast
.