High o’er the silver Rocks I rov’d
[To wander from the form I lov’d]
I thought fond Fancy would be kind
And steal my Mary from my mind.
‘Twas twilight and the lunar beam
Sail’d slowly o’er Winander’s stream.
As down its sides the water stray’d
Bright on a rock the moonbeam play’d
It shone half shelter’d from the view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew.
True true to love but false to rest
So fancy whisper’d to my breast
So shines her forehead smooth and fair
Gleaming through her sable hair
I turn’d to Heav’n but view’d on high
The languid lustre of her eye
The moon’s mild radiant edge I saw
Peeping a black-arch’d cloud below
Nor yet its faint and paly beam
Could tinge its skirt with yellow gleam
I saw the white waves o’er and o’er
Break against a curved shore
Now disappearing from the sight
Now twinkling regular and white
Her mouth [h]er smiling mouth can show
As white and regular a row.
Haste haste some god indulgent prove
And bear me, bear me to my love
Then might for yet the sultry hour
Glows from the Sun’s oppressive pow’r
Then might her bosom soft and white
Heave upon my swimming sight
As yon two Swans together ride
Upon the gently-swelling tide.
Haste Haste some god indulgent prove
And bear bear me to my Love