SONG
.
NO
riches
from
his
scanty
store
My
lover
could
impart
;
He
gave
a
boon
I
valued
more
—
He
gave
me
all
his
heart
!
His
soul
sincere
,
his
gen'rous
worth
,
Might
well
this
bosom
move
;
And
when
I
ask'd
for
bliss
on
earth
,
I
only
meant
his
love
.
But
now
for
me
,
in
search
of
gain
,
From
shore
to
shore
he
flies
;
—
Why
wander
riches
to
obtain
,
When
love
is
all
I
prize
?
The
frugal
meal
,
the
lowly
cot
,
When
blest
,
my
love
,
with
thee
,
—
That
simple
fare
,
that
humble
lot
,
Were
more
than
wealth
to
me
.
While
he
the
dang'rous
Ocean
braves
,
My
tears
but
vainly
flow
;
Is
pity
in
the
faithless
waves
,
To
which
I
pour
my
woe
?
The
night
is
dark
,
the
waters
deep
,
Yet
soft
the
billows
roll
;
Alas
!
at
every
breeze
I
weep
—
The
storm
is
in
my
soul
.