A Song
I.
No riches from his scanty store
My lover could impart;
He gave a meant his love.
III.
But now for me, in search of gain
From shore to shore he flies:
Why wander riches to obtain,boon I valued more—
He gave me all his heart!
II.
His soul sincere, his gen'rous worth,
Might well this bosom move;
And when I ask'd for bliss on earth,
I only
When love is all I prize?
IV.
The frugal meal, the lowly cot
If blest my love with thee!
That simple fare, that humble lot,