Sensibility, how charming,Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell;But distress, with horrors arming,Thou alas! hast known too well!
Fairest flower, behold the lilyBlooming in the sunny ray:Let the blast sweep o’er the valley,See it prostrate in the clay.
Hear the wood lark charm the forest,Telling o’er his little joys;But alas! a prey the surestTo each pirate of the skies.
Dearly bought the hidden treasureFiner feelings can bestow:Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasureThrill the deepest notes of woe.