First Loss

AH!who’ll e’er those days restore,

Those bright days of early love

Who’ll one hour again concede,

Of that time so fondly cherish’d[150]！

Silently my wounds I feed,

And with wailing evermore

Sorrow o’er each joy now perish’d[151].

Ah!who’ll e’er the days restore

Of that time so fondly cherish’d.

1789.