1 The voice of my Beloved sounds,
While o'er the mountain-tops he bounds,
He flies exulting o'er the hills,
And all my soul with transport fills;
Gently doth he chide my stay,
"Rise, my love, and come away."
2 The scatter'd clouds are fled at last,
The rain is gone, the winter's past,
The lovely vernal flow'rs appear,
The warbling choir enchant our ear;
Now, with sweetly pensive moan,
Coos the turtle-dove alone.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The voice of my Beloved sounds |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Topic: | Rejoicing |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. Tune: CHESHUNT |