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So the sweet lark, high poised in air,
Shuts close his pinions to his breast,
And drops at once into her nest.
“O Susan, Susan! lovely dear,
My vows shall ever true remain ; Let me kiss off that falling tear ;
We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee.
“ Believe not what the landsmen say,
Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind;
every port a mistress find :
If to fair India's coast we sail,
Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright
Thy skin is ivory so white.
Though battle call me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty Susan mourn ;
William shall to his dear return.
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread; No longer must she stay aboard :
They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land: “Adieu!” she cries; and wav'd her lily hand.
The softest blush that Nature spreads
Gave colour to her cheek;
When vernal mornings break.
Nor let the pride of great ones scorn
This charmer of the plains :
To paint our lily deigns.
Long had she fill'd each youth with love,
Each maiden with despair ;
Yet knew not she was fair: