Full Lyrics
From her, alas! whose smile was love,
I wander to some lonely cell:
My sighs too weak the Maid to move,
I bid the flatterer Hope farewell.
Be all her siren arts forgot,
That fill’d my bosom with alarms:
Ah! let her Crime, a little spot,
Be lost amidst her blaze of Charms.
As on I wander slow, my sighs
At every step for Cynthia mourn:
My anxious heart within me dies,
And sinking, whispers, “Oh, return!”
Deluded heart, thy folly know,
Nor fondly nurse the fatal flame;
By absence thou shalt lose thy woe,
And only flutter at her name.
Peter Pindar (pseudonym of John Wolcot)
