How I hail this morn's appearing! It will thee, my love, restore:
Safety danger past endearing, Sure we meet to part no more!
Fame is thine, lo! crowds aver it, And her smile is dear to thee;
But I charge thee, don't prefer it E'er again to home and me.
Thou, thy country's call obeying, Hast her battles nobly fought;
And, thy ready zeal repaying, See, she gives the laurels sought.
But have I no claims, my rover? Claims as fondly dear to thee?
Yes,
O yes! and, wandering over, Thou wilt rest with love and me.
Ha! methinks, thy glances reading, From thine eyes my fate I know;
Duty still love's claim impeding, Thou again must seek the foe.
Of my fears too dread revival!
Yet, with tearful joy I see, Duty is the only
Potent over love and me.
