SONG
.
TO
wander
alone
when
the
moon
faintly
beaming
,
With
glimmering
lustre
darts
through
the
dim
shade
,
Where
owls
seek
for
covert
,
and
night
birds
complaining
,
Add
sound
to
the
horrors
that
darken
the
glade
.
'Tis
not
for
the
happy
,
come
daughter
of
sorrow
,
'Tis
here
thy
sad
thoughts
are
embalm'd
in
thy
tears
,
Where
lost
in
the
past
,
nor
regarding
to-morrow
,
There's
nothing
for
hopes
,
there's
nothing
for
fears
.